Dare You To Move
by Mystic83
Summary: FINISHED! Sydney Bristow knows that her way of life has doomed her to never find a love that will last. She’s given up on love completely and resigned herself to a life as a lonely spy. But one rainy day in Rio changes all that.
1. The Loves of Her Life

Author's note: This story contains the normal timeline up until the end of Season 3: Episode 10 Remnants. Lauren isn't evil nor do I intend to make her evil at this point.

Who would ever have guessed he'd be the one that finally got to her.

A feat that no other man had really mastered.

Some had come so very close. But none had been able to break through and erase the failures created by the others.

First there was Todd, her best friend in grade school and high school. He was the first boy to kiss her. They were ten. He promptly told her afterward that she needed to practice. She thought that he was just perfect. That never changed.

In high school, she loved him silently; content to be the one he turned to for relationship advice, not the one he needed advice on. Confidence wasn't one of her strengths back then. She still thought she could live in a fairy tale world where she knew that eventually one morning he would look at her and realize what he was missing. That was what happened in every movie. Why couldn't it happen in real life?

Now she knows real life isn't like that. Real life is abandonment and broken promises. Real life is being left behind and destroying chances. Real life is not a fairy tale.

Todd left her behind as soon as high school ended. He went to the University of Colorado and never looked back. She pined for him through her whole first year of college. A lesson had been learned, but her heart would always hurt when she thought about her first love.

Which was why when Noah Hicks came into her life she was skeptical. He was this big shot agent, and she was a rookie who didn't know anything and kept getting them into trouble. Which was why she was so surprised when he showed interest for her. And respect.

This is probably the moment she could pinpoint where she began to develop the confidence in herself that had gotten her through so many of the tough times looming in her future. He helped her believe that she really could be anything she wanted and that she didn't need a man to tell her that. Noah Hicks had turned her into the super spy that she was today. For that, she would always be indebted to him.

When she first felt herself fall in love with Noah, she really tried to believe this wouldn't be like her first "relationship". Noah had promised that he would never leave her without warning. This was a man who never lied to her, not once. She trusted him with all her heart.

Her heart was betrayed when he disappeared without a trace, going against the one promise he had made her. No one would tell her what had happened or where he had gone specifically no matter how much she demanded. After a period of inconsolable grief, she let the memory of him go. In place of that memory was the knowledge that her view of their relationship must have been completely different than his. She had been willing to give it all up just to spend the rest of her life with him. He was willing to give her up just to keep with the spy life.

Funny enough, the truth was Noah had viewed the relationship the same way as her. He had sent her an e-mail the day he disappeared telling her that he wanted to give up his work and run away with her. Only she hadn't learned that until it was too late.

And now he's dead.

That was a reoccurring theme in her life. Men she loved were either killed by her own hands or her words.

The worst was Danny.

The love she felt for Danny Hecht dwarfed the feelings she had once had for Noah. The only thing missing in their relationship, as far as she was concerned, was the truth. He knew everything about her except the truth.

Danny had loved her for who she was, not what she did. The fact that he didn't even know the risks she took to keep their country safe and he still adored her blew her away. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and made it official in the most embarrassing but utterly romantic way. Life between them was as perfect as she had ever known.

And she had to destroy all that. She couldn't live with the lie. Because of that, she had killed him.

She had killed many men in the line of duty, for her job. It was in the job description and a necessary evil if she was to keep the world safe. Never had it been an innocent man, though. Never had it been unintentional. Never had it been someone she loved so fully. 

The image of his lifeless body in their bathtub would haunt her for life.

It would also teach her that her love was lethal.

Will Tippin had learned that the hard way.

Will had been the most stable thing in her life since she could remember. He was the one she went to crying each time her life fell apart. She couldn't count the number of times she ended up on the couch in his arms, pouring her soul out to him. Lying to him. Always there with an open heart and open arms, he was her rock, her foundation.

She could honestly admit that out of all the men in her life, he loved her the most. He was the one that she had the hardest time lying to. He would do anything for her. He had done everything for her.

And as a thank you, she destroyed his life.

It had started out simply enough. When Danny died, he found the whole situation a little sketchy, and he knew the pain that it caused her. For her benefit, Will investigated his death. His concern for her left him without a job and branded as a heroin addict.

But he still loved her.

She had gotten him a job with the CIA as an analyst. His life improved and he gave credit to her. She was too much of a coward to point out that he would still have had a normal life if it weren't for her. He had a new job and a new relationship with their best friend, Francie. Against all odds, he rebuilt a life that was better than the first one that was destroyed.

Because of the connection he had with her, she put him and his new life in danger continuously. His continued love for her rewarded him with an arrest by the NSA and a knife in the stomach by the woman he thought loved him.

But he still would have had faith in her. If only she wasn't dead.

For a second time, he formed a new life, this time as a construction worker in Wisconsin. Everyone had told her that he had finally found something that made him happy. When she was told that, in the back of her head, she knew she would end up destroying that, too. Everything and everyone she came into contact with was damaged by her in some way.

When she contacted him and pulled him out of the Witness Protection program, he gave her someone to talk to and someone to love unconditionally.

She gave him a ticket back into a life where every second is spent deciding if someone is trying to kill you.

But he still trusted her.

The last man she loved was Michael Vaughn, her CIA handler, her lover, her guardian angel. His betrayal of her hurt more than any of the previous men.

She had first met him when she was still distraught with the death of Danny. He was a harsh wake up call to the direction her life was beginning to take. In the beginning, she thought of him as her Will of the CIA world. He had a constantly open ear for her to talk to. He seemed to trust her unconditionally.

It didn't surprise when their relationship grew into love. What surprised her was the fact that she was willing to give up her life for a man for the third time. They had both worked so hard for their relationship that she couldn't help but surrender to it.

And this time, unlike Noah or Danny, she knew she would get it right. She would never betray him or put him into any danger. Not as long as she lived.

Which was where everything went wrong. She didn't live. She died.

And he gave up on her. He gave up on their love.

And it hurt her more than words could say.

It hurt her almost as much as it hurt him to see her alive and well two years later.

That chapter of her life died when she first saw Lauren Reed and realized that he had moved on completely. There was no going back for him. He was lost to her.

And she… she was just lost.

She thought she would never find love again. In her lifetime, she had found one lifelong companion and three true loves. That was above and beyond the ordinary allowance.

But she was wrong.

Sydney Bristow found love again on a rainy day in Rio de Janeiro in the eyes of the most unlikely person.


	2. Testing the Limits

Sydney ran down the wet pavement of Rio de Janeiro, trying to focus only on the sound of her feet hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm. She knew if she stopped running for even a second, the men chasing her would catch up. Usually when she encountered opposition, they were fairly less skilled then her, and she never had trouble defeating them. However, these men chasing her were of a higher caliber.

She chanced a quick glance over her right shoulder and was dismayed to see that, indeed, there were still five men running behind her. And they were beginning to close the gap.

Focusing back on just running at a quick, steady pace, Sydney made a quick right as she started hearing gun shots ring out from behind her. The safe house had to be around here somewhere. It was just a matter of figuring out where she was and how far from her position she had to run to get there.

A sudden pain flared up her leg. Feeling herself slow down, she warranted a glance at where the pain was coming from. There was a small pool of blood soaking through the black pair of pants she was wearing. Since the pain wasn't too severe, she knew that the bullet must have grazed her leg and not actually entered it.

Small blessing, though it was, Sydney knew that the wound would be enough to prevent her from escaping these men. But she wasn't about to give up trying.

The sounds of her feet hitting the pavement were now completely uneven, and each was being spaced out more and more. She could feel herself gradually slowing.

Sydney felt her head begin to get a little woozy. This distracted her just enough that she didn't see someone step out from the shadows. He grabbed her from behind and placed his hand over her mouth all the while desperately whispering for her not to scream.

She immediately recognized the voice which really tempted her to scream. Thinking logically, she chose not to give in to temptation. She would rather chance being alone with him, rather than being chased by five extremely capable henchmen.

He pulled her into a nearby open doorway and took his hand away from her mouth. Sydney turned around and peaked out a small crack in the now shut door. The five men who had been chasing her ran past screaming to one another that she had to be just around the corner.

"What the hell are you doing, Sark?" she hissed, turning her attention back to the man who had grabbed her.

"Saving your ass is what it looks like, Agent Bristow. You can thank me later." Sark took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and held it up to the light. "No service."

"Of course there's no service. We're in the middle of the slums outside Rio de Janeiro. Moron," she muttered. Sydney knew that she wouldn't get Sark to come straight out and explain, but she knew she had to keep trying. "Why did you help me?"

"Now, now. Do you really think I'm going to tell you how saving you benefits me just because you demanded it? I really thought we were beyond the playing dumb stage. I thought that you knew me better than that, Agent Bristow."

She sighed and went to open the door. It didn't move an inch. "The door's stuck."

"Either that or you really enjoy my company." Sark scanned the room and found a small trap door in one corner of the room. He pointed at it. "Here's our exit."

Sydney crossed the room and prepared to open the trap door. The door was so heavy that she knew she would have to ask Sark for help in lifting it. Before she could turn to humble herself and do just that, she felt a hand grasp her forearm.

Reacting instead of thinking, she punched Sark with the arm he had not been grasping. It was so unexpected that Sark didn't even have time to block the blow. He fell backwards onto the floor and grabbed the side of his face she had made contact with.

"What the hell was that for?" he grumbled. "I save your bloody life and all you can do is punch me. And I never got a thank you." He paused for a moment to look at her with his good eye. She was sitting on the ground glaring at him. "Obviously, I'm not going to get an apology from you either. Figures."

Sark stood up and walked to where Sydney was sitting. "Don't punch me again," he said as he bent down. With one large pull, he yanked the trap door open. "Get in," he demanded.

"Oh no," she said waving her hands. "I'm not going in there unless you go in first. I'm not stupid. I know that this whole thing could be a set up, Sark. It's quite convenient that you were in just the right place to save me from those men."

"Agent Bristow, I am not going in there first. It's imperative that you get in there now before those men come back looking for you."

She shook her head in the negative.

Sark grabbed her arm again, prepared to shove her in the right direction.

"You should have learned not to do that by now," Sydney whispered as he pulled her towards the door. "How many times do I have to kick your ass before you learn that you can't manhandle me?"

With all her might, she shoved him into the large hole the trapdoor had been covering. In her head, it seemed like a good idea. But in her head, she had forgotten the fact that he had a tight grip on her arm. As he tumbled into the black hole, she found herself tumbling right along beside him.

She felt Sark wrap his arms around her tightly and turn their bodies so that she was on top of him. When they hit the ground, he absorbed most of the blow. Sydney shrugged out of his arms which wasn't hard since he was pretty much incoherent from the impact. That was when she realized they had landed in a massive puddle. Wiping the water off of her face, she sighed.

"Guess I'll look around," she mumbled as she watched his eyes shut slowly. She felt her way around the walls in a complete circle. As far as she could tell there were shelves lining three of the walls and the other one was a complete smooth surface. She couldn't find any doors or openings.

Determined to keep moving, she felt each shelf trying to find anything that was useful. Most shelves were completely empty. But she did find a few cans of what she could only guess were food. On one of the last few shelves she checked, she hit a jackpot. She found an old kerosene lamp that she promptly lit with the matches she carried with her on every mission.

Looking around, she realized that Sark had been completely wrong about this exit. There was no exit. She had pushed him into what she could only estimate was an underground pantry that hadn't been used in years. There was no ladder or any other method of escape. They were thoroughly and utterly trapped.

Sighing, she walked her way over to where she heard Sark mumbling in pain. She sat down next to him and put her head in her hands.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The first words Sark heard when he regained consciousness were "We're stuck."

"What do you mean we're stuck?" he said, wincing as he tried to sit up. He felt Sydney's arms wrap around him and help him to his feet. "What happened?"

"In a nutshell, I pushed you down a hole. You took me with you. You got knocked unconscious. I did some investigating. Realized we were trapped. And then you woke up. Understand?"

"I think so." Sark rubbed his face. "How do we get out?"

"We don't. Like I said, we're stuck. I thought you said you understood."

"I thought I did. But excuse me if saving your ass for a second time in the past hour has made me a little incoherent."

Sydney glared at him. "There are no exits. No ladder to climb out. The opening is too far to reach without any equipment. My radio headpiece was destroyed long before those men started to chase me. Your cell phone took a beating in the fall. We have no way of contacting the outside world to tell them we're here. So, like I said, we're stuck."

"Any other bad news?" Sark asked her.

"Yeah. I'm freezing." Sark laughed. "Find that funny do you?"

"Yeah, I do, Agent Bristow." Sark continued to laugh until he saw that Sydney was shivering. "You're serious, aren't you? You really are freezing."

"As much as it pains me to reveal my weakness, yes, when I said I was freezing, I meant I was freezing, Sark."

He sighed and sat down next to her. Hoping she wouldn't react violently, he slipped his own arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

Through chattering teeth, she sputtered out, "If I wasn't so damn cold, I would kill you right about now."

"I know. That's the only reason I chanced it."

Sydney let out a small sigh as she felt her body warm up slightly from the heat Sark was emitting. "How long do you think it will take someone to find us?"

"Not that long if your precious Agent Vaughn is on the case."

"He's not mine, Sark," she said softly, almost to herself. "He never really was."

"You're not going to get emotional on me. Are you?"

Forgetting there was a reason she was cuddled up next to him, she shrugged out of his arms and stood up. "I forgot. Emotions aren't allowed when you're around."

"They mess things up. Cloud your judgment and the like."

"And that would just be horrible. To actually feel something." Sydney started shivering again.

"Why don't you stop trying to fix me and just sit down again?" he suggested.

"Bite me," she said.

"In the back of your pretty little head, I bet you wish I would," he said looking at her with a cocky grin.

She glared at him. "Maybe you're the one that wishes you could. I mean, I do seem to be the only woman who can keep up with you."

"And I applaud you for that. But you're not my type, Agent Bristow. I like my women with…" he paused and looked her up and down. "More flexible loyalties."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Really? Then, you don't really know me, Sark. I thought that by now you would have gotten a handle on me, but obviously, you're not as good as I thought you were." She sauntered over and sat down next to him again.

"So, you've thought about me?" he teased.

"No," she answered simply. "Not even once."

"Come on, Agent Bristow. You haven't let your mind wonder just once what it would be like to actually let yourself go. You've never thought what it would be like to live my kind of life for just one day. Never questioned how great it could be if you were with someone who actually knew how a woman should be appreciated." He paused to smile. "I do know you, Sydney."

"Oh, it's Sydney now?" She said in mock surprise.

"I thought it was only fitting that I drop the Agent Bristow. I mean, we are stuck in a rather nasty, dank cellar with one another. I say by the time we get out of this, we'll be on a first name basis."

"That would require you telling me your first name." Sark just smiled at her without answering. She continued, "And to answer your question, no, I have never daydreamed about being with you, Sark."

"You're lying." He touched the outside corner of her right eye. "When you lie, that corner crinkles just slightly. It's a dead give away."

"Maybe you know me a little better than I thought," she admitted. It was starting to make her nervous that he hadn't taken his fingers off of her face. She was also scared at how much she wanted to lean into his hand.

"Humor me, Sydney. Tell me you thought about sleeping with me."

"You're such an arrogant asshole," she said leaping up onto her feet again, effectively breaking the connection that he had hastily formed with her. "You think that every woman on this earth worships you. Well, this one doesn't!"

"Calm down, Agent Bristow."

"Back to Agent Bristow?" she snarled.

"You're scaring me. I figured it was safer to call you that." He said with wide eyes.

"Good. I'm glad you're scared. Because you have ever reason to be afraid of me."

Sark realized that he was letting her get the upper hand in the conversation. "No. You misunderstood me. I'm getting scared because you seem a little too emotionally involved in this conversation. Dare I say that you actually have feelings about me outside of the daydreams?"

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"Which part? The outside feelings or the daydreams?"

"Both. I have no feelings for you at all. Hell, I have no feelings for men in general. I'm done with that. I've realized that your method is the way to go." She stood up straight and proud. "I plan on becoming an emotionless shell like you are."

Sark stood up and walked toward her. "That hurts." He stopped a few feet away from her.

"So you have feelings?" she asked. She had begun to get a small tingling feeling in her stomach. This only happened when she knew she was about to do something stupid. She took a small step toward him.

"Maybe I do, Agent Bristow." Sark cut the gap between them in half.

"And I never had daydreams about you," she added in a completely unconvincing tone as he inched closer.

"Of course," he said as he shook his head patronizingly.

"This is a mistake," she whispered as she felt herself step close enough to touch him. Looking into his eyes, she was scared of what she saw. She had been wrong about him. He wasn't an emotionless shell. He was pure emotion.

"I'm aware," he murmured as he bent down to kiss her softly.

As she felt his lips touch hers tentatively, Sydney heard a loud crash from above them. Sark sighed and pulled away. "Just when I was making headway," he said with a cocky grin.

She scowled at him.

"Do you think that's my men or your precious CIA handler?"

Sydney punched him in the jaw. "Leave Vaughn out of this. That's the last time I'm going to tell you that."

Sark rubbed his jaw. "Glad to see you're back to your old self, Agent Bristow. For a second there, I thought you were seducible."

She crouched down to where he was laying on the floor. "Would you just love to think you could affect me? If I didn't know better, I'd say that you really wanted me to want you." She sighed and stood up.

"You look pretty relaxed," he said as he picked himself up.

"Why shouldn't I be? Either the CIA is going to come in and rescue me while taking you into custody. Or your men are going to come in and you, rather smartly, are going to let me go. You obviously don't want me being held in anyone's custody or you wouldn't have saved me out there."

"You forgot the third option," Sark said smugly as he withdrew his gun from the pocket of his jacket which he had discarded earlier. "That could be the men who were chasing you earlier."

"Oh," Sydney said, realizing he had a point.

"Sydney?" called a voice from above.

She sighed in relief. "I'm down here, Weiss."

"We'll have you out as soon as we can locate some rope."

Sydney yelled thanks as she heard the men above her start scrambling.

"Who is this Weiss character?" Sark asked from the shadows he was hiding in.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed. "Weiss is one of the few people I still trust, if you must know. He'll get me out of here no matter what. However, he won't take too kindly to seeing you with me. So, just keep quiet. You're going to have to trust me."

"I already do, Agent Bristow. You might think I'm lying, but you are one of the few people I do trust."

"You're right," she said as she passed her hand over the wall to search for footholds. "I do think you're lying."  


"You've never done me wrong. You've never acted out of character. Sydney, you're the only honest person I know. So that makes me trust you. Not with my life or safety, but there is some trust there all the same."

"Load of bullshit," she muttered as she heard Weiss return.

"Here's some rope. Try to pull yourself up!" he yelled.

"Got it," she shouted back. Turning to Sark, she whispered, "Just stay quiet. And since you claim you trust me, you should have no problem doing whatever I want you to."

Sydney began to pull herself up the rope. It was hard work since the walls were incredibly damp and slippery, but she made it to the top in relatively fast time. When he caught sight of her, Weiss grabbed her arms and pulled her the last few feet.

"How are you doing?" he asked, looking her over.

"Good, now that you've found me." She looked around. "Where is everyone else?"

"It's just me, Syd. Vaughn and Dixon thought that you were just following protocol and staying hidden until your scheduled pick-up time tomorrow."

"But you knew something was wrong when they didn't?" she asked.

"I had a hunch. Turns out I was right. Let's go," he said as she began to untie the rope he had fastened around the bars on one of the windows.

Sydney gently touched his hand. "Leave it. I want the men who were chasing me to know they had a chance to capture me, and they blew it." She smiled at him, hoping he didn't hear the lie in her voice. Not to mention the fact that she knew the corner of her right eye was crinkling exactly as Sark predicted it did when she didn't tell the truth.

Weiss nodded and led her out the door.

After hearing the two CIA agents leave, Sark waited a couple minutes and then gave the rope a rough tug. It was still tightly secured. "Hell of a woman," he muttered as he prepared to pull himself out.


	3. Danny's Grave

The next day, after an extremely thorough debriefing and planning session, Sydney found herself drawn to the cemetery where she had chosen to bury Danny. She hadn't visited his grave since she had started her relationship with Vaughn. At the time, all she wanted to do was leave the past behind. Since then she learned if choosing to ignore or forget her past wasn't the smartest answer. No matter what she did, it always seemed to rise up to bite her in the heart.

"Figures that since that's over, I'd find myself back here," she muttered to herself. She sat down on the bright green grass and curled her legs under her. It was an extremely beautiful day which made sense since Danny loved this city and the weather so much. Running her fingers over the small patch of daisies she had planted next to the headstone over a year ago, she thought about her fiancé.

Not so long ago, Danny had been the light in her eyes whenever she smiled. He was the reason she was able to get up each morning and do what needed to be done. She had loved him like no other man, with nothing held back, caution to the wind.

"And he paid the price," she thought to herself. A small tear ran down her face. He may have been dead for quite a while now, but she still missed him like crazy. No man had ever understood her so completely as Danny did. Vaughn never had the time to achieve that level of intimacy with her, and Will… he came close so often. But when he knew her so well, there was always something missing. They were never lovers. She never knew what it meant to love him utterly and completely.

Sydney smiled to herself. That had changed. Last time she saw him, they had become lovers. "But he didn't really know me then," she mumbled to herself and to Danny. "Too much time had passed."

She began to trace the letters carved into the stone. "You know who reminds me of you?" she asked the headstone.

"Me?" came a cocky British voice from behind her.

"Do you not have any morals?" she said without turning around. She continued to lightly finger the headstone. "I'm trying to have a private conversation here."  


"You know I don't have morals, Agent Bristow," Sark said as he sat down next to her. "Now, will you explain to me why I remind you of your dead boyfriend?"

"I never said it was you," Sydney said, finally looking at Sark. Sighing, she continued, "Well, to start, you both have the somewhat aloof, I-know-more-than-you-do type of accent. Danny was always two steps ahead of me."

"Are you admitting that I get the best of you?" he said with a smile.

"Maybe," she said. "What are you doing here, Sark?"

"As much as it kills me, I felt the need to thank you for not revealing my position to your CIA comrades."

"Number one, you know I couldn't have told them you were there without revealing the fact that I needed to be saved. The first rule my father ever taught me was at no time are you allowed to show weakness. This goes for both your employers and your adversaries. My father's wise. I listen to him." Sark rolled his eyes. "Number two, I think my kindness towards you canceled out the debt I had towards you for saving me off the street. So, we're even. And you can get out of my life now."

Sydney stood up and brushed off her skirt.

Sark quickly grabbed her hand and spun her around. This quick motion caught her completely unawares. She lost her balance and found herself being engulfed in his arms. Sydney was quick to realize that to any passerby, it looked like he had just romantically dipped her. She smirked to herself at the idea.

"Now, Agent Bristow. If you really wanted me out of your life, you wouldn't be in my arms right now." He gave her a quick but passionate kiss, stood her up on her feet, and turned without saying a word.

Sydney was left staring at him as he disappeared into the horizon. Unconsciously, she rubbed her lips and wondered what was going on with her.

"You won't believe this, Danny. Sark's actually succeeded in making my pulse beat faster which was obviously his goal, the arrogant bastard," she muttered to the headstone, giving it a little pat. She turned and began to walk back to her car. "Not that he's never done that before," she rationalized silently. "But at least then, it was only because of how he looked, not what he did to me. And most times, it was just because he got on my bad side so easily."

Sydney would be the first one to admit that Sark was an extremely attractive man. And he knew it. In that sense, he was the same as her. He was willing to use his attractiveness and sex appeal to get what he wanted. It was a tremendously useful asset in the world of spies and aliases.

Turning to look at where he had been standing a minute earlier, she wondered, "But why is he using it on me? And why is it working so well?"

She opened the door to her car and was surprised to hear her beeper going off. "Work calls," she muttered. 

Groaning, she shifted her car into drive and made a quick u-turn to take her back to the CIA facility. She couldn't imagine what new intel had surfaced in the two hours she had been away from the headquarters. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but suspect it had something to do with Sark. He wouldn't just show up randomly at Danny's grave with the sole purpose of thanking her for keeping him safe. 

"Ridiculous," she muttered as made a couple quick right turns and got onto the freeway. She knew that she was one of the best agents the government had on active duty, but that still didn't calm her when she was constantly being called to go on missions.

Her whole life was interwoven in with the CIA's operations, but she was really starting to believe that she was the only agent assigned to missions. She had never heard of other agents going on two to three missions a week to exotic locales for short periods of time.

Sydney exited off the freeway and took the last left turn before she approached her destination. She calmly checked the rearview mirror for any cars tailing her. Luckily, there didn't appear to be any suspicious behavior back there so she was able to pull right into the parking garage.

What surprised her most was not that Vaughn was standing next to her parking space, waiting for her arrival, but that he had brought Lauren along with him. She had told him that having Lauren around constantly made her nervous. Having to be on your best behavior all the time was not an easy task to complete. And that's what she felt she had to do when Vaughn brought his wife around.

"What's going on?" she asked immediately as she exited her car.

"One of my contacts has checked in with me. He confirmed that the men who were chasing you did find the little scene you left for them in Rio," Lauren supplied as the three of them began to make their way inside.

"The situation is a lot worse than we first thought, Sydney," Vaughn added.

Sydney glanced at him but quickly turned her attention back to Lauren. "Explain."

"The men who were chasing you were working for Taylor Cummings. Are you aware of him?"

"Supposedly, he's the man in charge of the new agency that the CIA is worrying about," Sydney said as they reached a briefing room that was already full of all the usual players. "But that's all I know."

Lauren took the vacant seat next to Dixon. "With your permission, Director Dixon…" Dixon nodded his approval and she continued. "The agency that Cummings is in charge of is called The Kindred. They're a group of very powerful men and women from all over the world. Each member has somehow lost a position of power they once held in one of the other top organizations that we've been working against. They have a handful of ex-KGB agents and one of the directors. Cummings even coerced defectors from the newly formed Covenant. However, the most interesting recruit is Svetlana Borgava, the head of K-Directorate before its collapse. She is one of the higher ups and therefore one of the few people who actually are in contact with Cummings personally."

"And the men chasing me were a part of this organization."

"Yes. It seems Cummings has heard of you and your reputation, Sydney," Dixon said. "He's realized that the one dimension his organization is still lacking is that of operatives from Central Intelligence."

  
"He wants me," Sydney said simply. "Well, that shouldn't pose a large problem. I won't go with him willingly, and I'm the best agent here at resisting interrogation and brainwashing. Why the sudden call to arms?"

"When you so cleverly alluded his men, Sydney, Cummings decided that he was going to have to put your case on the backburner. He realized that you were probably going to be his toughest acquisition," Lauren stated. "So he's moved on to his next agenda."

"Which is?"

"The acquisition of free agents." Lauren slid a folder across the table to Sydney. "Here's a list of the potential agents we think Cummings is going to try to contact. We want you to pinpoint the one you think would be most dangerous if allied with the Kindred."

Sydney picked up the folder and began leafing through it. "I assume that when I pick one of these people, you'll be sending me on a mission to keep Cummings away from them."

Dixon smiled. "You're correct. After you've gone through all the files and chosen which one deserves the greatest priority, I'd appreciate if you could prioritize the rest of the names. I want an agent on every single one of these people, but I want to save the better agents for more complex missions."

Sydney nodded her understanding and began to flip through the file.

"Take your time, Sydney," Lauren said. "We want you to be sure that you've selected the correct person. This operation could deliver a severe blow to the Kindred's operation if done right."

Sydney closed the folder. "No need. I'm done." She threw the picture and profile of the person she selected onto the table.  
  
"Sark?" Vaughn was completely floored. "Out of all of those free agents, you chose him?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Sydney said. "Dixon. Lauren. Sark should be the top priority of this organization. We've all seen him in action. He's just as good as I am, if not better at times. That makes him an extremely valuable asset. If Cummings wanted me as a member of his organization, it's only natural that upon realizing he couldn't get me he would seek out someone just as good.

"A very strong point," Dixon agreed.

"And I think that even if Cummings persuades Sark to join him, I can persuade Sark not to. Either physically or verbally."

"You think you have some sort of power over Sark?" Vaughn asked.

"I know I have power over him. But we're just going to have to see how much good that will do us." Sydney turned back to Dixon. "I recommend you find the current location of Sark and send me there to monitor his comings and goings. When Cummings' man goes in to make a deal, I'll intercept. Sark won't try to attack me or capture me. He'll be too surprised to see me. The plan is as near to fool proof as we can get."

"Good," Dixon said standing up. "Lauren, get us Sark's location within the hour. Sydney, you're going to be on the first commercial flight to that destination. Good luck."

Sydney stayed in her seat as she watched everyone leave the room. When no one was within ear or eyeshot, she sighed deeply. Deep down inside, she knew the evaluation she made was the right one, but she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had let her emotions play a part in the decision making process. And if that was the case, she was going to have a very interesting mission.


	4. A LifeAltering Decision

"Figures it has to be Nice," Sydney growled as she scanned for any traces of Sark. The last time she had been in Nice was right before she had started her relationship with Vaughn. They had sat inside a café that was a little fancier but not too different than the one she was currently at. Sydney scowled remembering how they had almost agreed to a small romantic tryst in the upstairs hotel that night. It still hurt to think of Vaughn and the roller coaster of emotions he had put her through since she first met him.

She was pulled out of her little mope when she heard someone say Sark's name from somewhere behind her. Scanning all the people who were outside with her, eating their lunches, she tried to locate who was discussing her mission objective.

"Not hard to figure out," she murmured as her eyes rested on two giant men who were looking uncomfortable in the little seats the café had placed in front of the tables. Sydney leaned a little to her left and was pleased to realize the gadget Marshall had given her was working just fine. The small earpiece she wore was a godsend in this situation. It allowed her to zero in on one specific conversation and even amplify the volume as necessary. Which she was quick to do for the conversation occurring between these two men.

She heard Oaf #1 mention Sark again to his companion.

"Don't use his name so freely, Vladimir," said the second Oaf in Russian. "We're not supposed to be even discussing what Mr. Cummings is asking of us in such a public place."

"I just want to be sure I know what we're supposed to be doing tonight," Vladimir insisted.

"You know that we're supposed to let the negotiations go on as planned between our agent and Mr. Sark. If he accepts, we just turn around, go back to the hotel, get a good night sleep, and return to our boss in the morning. If he refuses, we kill him. It's quite simple."

"But we're not allowed to kill any civilians, right, Sergei?"

"Correct. Mr. Cummings will be furious if the body count exceeds one."

Sydney couldn't believe what she was hearing. Obviously, Taylor Cummings didn't want another failure like what had happened when he tried to "recruit" her. "So it was either join up or death for Sark," she said softly to herself as she threw some money down on the table to pay for her lunch.

Hoping that the two men couldn't tell that she was slightly upset by what they were talking about, she made her way through all the café tables and down the street. After a few blocks, she checked to make sure no one was following her and then broke into a run. She wasn't supposed to contact any of her handlers until the whole operation was done. But the information that Sark might be assassinated tonight was too great for her to either ignore or deal with herself.

Luckily, the small American embassy in Nice was rather close to the spot she had chosen to eat her lunch. She flashed her passport and CIA badge without stopping. Five flights of stairs later, she was standing in front of Weiss and Vaughn.

  
"Sydney? What's the matter?" Vaughn said. Sydney was happy to see she could still cause that infamous worry look to pop up on his face without even trying, without even saying a word.

"I just stumbled upon something really interesting. Information," she said while trying to catch her breath.

"You know you're not supposed to contact us. No matter what, Sydney," Vaughn scolded. He wasn't really interested in knowing what caused her to breech protocol. He just wanted to know why it was so important. This mission was so critical to the CIA that nothing could go wrong. No matter what.

"They're going to kill Sark tonight if he doesn't join them," she said more to Weiss than Vaughn. She had no idea why Vaughn was being so irrational. He had changed a lot over the two years she had been missing, presumed dead. She never got doubts from him on any mission she had ever been on before that time.

"Okay. What are we supposed to do about that, Syd?" Weiss said.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Something. We can't just let the Kindred go in and kill him."

"That's exactly what we're going to do," Vaughn said calmly. "Really it's a win/win situation. Cummings' man goes in and propositions Sark. If Sark accepts, you can intervene and keep the deal from going through. If Sark refuses, he gets killed. He's no longer our problem."

"You just want me to let him die?" She was horrified. "I know there's no good feelings between him and any of us. But I can't just let him be killed. Not if I know I can stop it."

"That's exactly what you're going to do," Weiss said.

"You too?" she screamed. "You want me to let cold-blooded murder happen, too?"

"It's what the U.S. government would order you to do," Weiss pointed out. "They wouldn't want to risk the chance that you get hurt or killed just to save a wanted criminal who's been terrorizing us for years now. Sark isn't that important when he's compared to you. You know we're right about this, Syd."

"I know, I know," she said after a moment as she sat down and put her head in her hands. "Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it." She sighed. "This is not what I signed up for. I signed up to be an agent to keep the country and the world safe from enemies that it didn't even know it had. I didn't sign up to let men be killed when I have the option to stop it."

"What's really going on here, Syd?" Vaughn asked. "I'm sorry to be the one to point this out. But every one of us has let people get killed in front of our faces before. Why is this situation so different?"

"I think I know," Weiss said. "Every situation like this from our past involved people we were aware of, not people we had met and interacted with. As much as we all hate Sark, he's a good opponent. He keeps us on our toes."

Sydney smiled at Weiss. "I knew you'd understand." She stood up from her seat. "I need to get out of here before someone spots me in the embassy. I know what I have to do. Don't worry about me. I'll see you all tomorrow."

As soon as she was a good distance away from the embassy, she stopped walking and sat down on the curb. She couldn't believe that she was going to stand by and watch one of the most intriguing men she had ever met die that very night. As much as she hated to admit, something inside her was changing in regards to this mysterious spy. And that made her scared. Because she knew in the back of her head and her heart, Sark wouldn't accept the Kindred's offer. Which meant he was going to be murdered.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Three hours later, Sydney found herself standing on the beaches of Nice outside a very elegantly lit castle. Even though she had been halfway around the world and back, sights like this still took her breath away. It might have been partially due to the fact that this mission didn't require her to sneak in to any facilities and steal bombs or thermal nuclear detonators. She could almost relax and enjoy the atmosphere, under the circumstances.

"Yeah, I could relax if I wasn't so bothered by the fact that the CIA's ordered me to watch a man be murdered tonight," she muttered to herself as she heard music begin to filter down from the castle. The party must have started. Sighing, she lifted her skirt and began to walk up the narrow steps that led to one of the castles many entrances. She knew that it would have been better, and less suspicious, for her to enter through the main gates, but she really didn't want Sark to know that she had anything to do with the night he was going to die.

So that meant a little stealth.

She slinked up and down the corridors, nodding politely to all the people she past while she constantly scanning for any signs that Sark was in the castle already. The main ballroom was her best shot at spotting him, she decided. Working her way through the crowded dance floor and getting knocked around in the process, she was cursing herself for not getting Marshall to cook her up some device that would help to easily locate Sark. She took a deep breath and sat down at a table that was out of the main traffic of the room.

Realizing that he wasn't there yet, she let herself get engulfed in a heated debate with a Turkish diplomat who had taken a seat next to her at the table. He was trying to convince her that there really weren't any secret organizations in the world. Supposedly they were all cooked up to keep people focused on that dimension of paranoia and keep their attentions off what the elected government officials of the world were doing.

"If he only knew," she thought as she excused herself. "Where is Sark?" she muttered softly.

As if he heard her question, Sydney heard his cocky voice carrying over all the others who were crowded in the room. Sark was standing towards the side of the room very clearly arguing rather passionately with a petite blonde.

"Figures," Sydney whispered and rolled her eyes. "He's about to be propositioned and/or killed, and he's flirting."

Sydney watched him out of the corner of her eye. The petite blonde was coming on rather strong to Sark, and he was obviously enjoying it. "Scum." She watched the woman softly touched the side of Sark's face and was surprised to see him shrug her off. "Weird. Something's not right when Sark is stopping the come-ons of a pretty woman."

The blonde began to raise her voice a little as Sydney took a chance and got a little closer to where Sark was standing. She caught something about producing better connections and a logical choice. When the blonde called him a moron and a complete bastard, Sydney let out a small, quiet laugh. This girl had only been talking to him for a few minutes, and she already had him pegged.

She stopped laughing when she heard Sark tell the blonde that she could go back to Taylor Cummings and tell him to shove his deal in a very delicate place.

"Shit," she muttered. It was obvious now what she had first thought was a simple flirting actually was the business proposition she was supposed to be intercepting. And Sark had just turned it down. Which mean that she was going to be stuck a few feet away from him when he got killed.

Sydney realized that she had a personal choice to make. She could do what the CIA wanted her to do, what she knew was the most logical and profitable solution. Stand by and watch him be killed. Or she could…

"Do what?" she thought to herself. "Go barging in and tell him 'Hey. You're about to be killed. Thought you should know' and then just walk away." She knew if she did that he would just laugh in her face anyway. Whatever she decided she was going to have to do it soon. The men Cummings had sent to kill Sark weren't going to wait around forever for her to make a decision.

That was when her mind recalled something the men had said while discussing their plan earlier that day at the café. And she knew what she had to do.

Smiling at the people she passed, she maneuvered herself behind the pillar Sark was leaning against. This kept her out of his view and allowed her to scan the room. Sure enough, Cummings' men were searching the room for something. Sydney was probably the only one who knew that something was Sark.

Knowing that her next action was going to probably screw everything up for both her and Sark, she took a deep breath and thought it through quickly. When she saw Vladimir and Sergei reach into their coats for their guns, she recognized the time for thought was over.

She quickly grabbed Sark's left hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. He was quick to recover from the shock and pulled her into the tango that was being danced.

"Fancy seeing you here, Agent Bristow," he said as he dipped her. "What brings you to France? A nuclear weapon? Your mother?"

"You actually," she said. She tried to keep them dancing in and out of all the other couples on the floor. Which was hard considering Sark wasn't one to let a lady take control on the dance floor. "For once would you follow my lead?"

"If you insist. Should I be flattered that you came all the way across the pond just to see me?"

"Keep it twirling," she said. She continued to scan the room for Cummings' men. "There are two men out there in the crowd who are getting ready to kill you. You need to stop trying to flirt with me and do what I say."

"Sydney, I can't just turn off the flirting. It doesn't work like that."

"Are you not listening to what I'm saying?" she said chancing a look into his eyes.

"I heard you say that someone was trying to kill me. That's old news. Someone is always trying to kill me. However, this whole you coming to my rescue thing is brand new. It intrigues me." Sydney rolled her eyes and began to look around the room again. "Why are you rescuing me?"

"Because no one should be murdered without at least being warned. I'm doing this solely to clear my conscience. Once I get you out of this room, you're on your own."

"Now we both know that's a lie," Sark said. He dipped her again.

"Keep moving," she hissed as her eyes locked with Sergei. "I think your would-be assassins just recognized me."

Sark leaned over and sniffed her neck. "You smell great. Did you do that for me?"

"Or wouldn't you like it if I had," she said. Seeing an opening, she locked eyes with Sark. "Try to keep up, will you?"

"Is that a challenge?" Sark was definitely enjoying Sydney's take-charge side. "I'm intrigued by you, Agent Bristow."

"Now that's old news," she said with a laugh as she began to spin herself and Sark across the whole dance floor. They moved so fast that she was sure that Cummings men wouldn't be able to keep track of their position.

"I think we lost them," she said, a little out of breath. She pointed down the hallway. "Go that way. Take the last left. There will be a door at the end of that corridor. It will take you straight outside. There will be a small path that leads down to the beach. That's how I got in here. You should be pretty safe from there."

"You're really going to leave me to fend for myself?" he said giving her a sad face.

"Yes. I'm already beginning to wonder why I went against CIA orders to save you."

Sark's face lit up in surprise. "You went against orders? You didn't mention that before."

Sydney swore to herself, realizing the mistake she had just made. "Go, Sark."

As she turned to leave, she felt his hand grasp her arm and push her against the wall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

He didn't have time to answer as gunshots filled the corridor. "I think they found me, Agent Bristow."

The gunshots stopped suddenly. Figuring they needed to reload, Sydney grabbed his hand and began to pull him down the corridor. "Why the hell do you call me Agent Bristow so much?" she called back to him.

"It's one of my theories," he said as she took the left turn she had mentioned before. "An opponent's position is weakened if you keep bringing his or her name into the conversation. It gives me an advantage."

"So every time you've called me Agent Bristow, it's been your way of weakening me," she said. "I should just leave you to fend for yourself."

"Now, Agent Bri--" Recognizing what he was doing, he stopped himself. Sydney dropped his hand and opened the door at the end of the corridor. Together, they rushed through the doorway and slammed it shut behind them.

Sydney began to make her way down the narrow steps she had been ascending not an hour earlier. Halfway down, Sark grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the side. She didn't protest too much. The cliff's sides and the foliage covering it gave them enough protection against being seen.

"Listen. I want you to know a few things. If those men catch up with us, I'm not going to protect you from them," he said sternly. "You chose to get into this situation. You can find your way out of it."

"Well, at least I know that you really are the bastard I thought you were. I saved your life back there and your way of repaying me is to say that if I lag behind you're going to leave me." She sent him a cool glare and turned to continue walking down the cliff path.

Sark grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "I think I need to explain something else to you, too," he said. "I've never tried to weaken you. Never. Know that."

"You just said two minutes ago that you have."

"You assumed," he said with a smirk.

"Get that goddamn smirk off your mouth before I knock it off myself."

His smirk only got wider. "That's why I enjoy your company so much. You're one of the few women who won't put up with me. It's fascinating."

Sydney just glared at him.

"You only let me tell you half my theory. The half you didn't hear was the half that pertained to you. I call you Agent Bristow so much because it helps me establish a connection with you. I've always seen you as someone who gets me. You understood exactly who I am and why I do what I do."

"You're deluding yourself, Sark. I know nothing about you. Nothing," she hissed.

"You know everything about me because you're just like me, Agent Bristow."

She couldn't help but smile at him calling her Agent Bristow. "You really can't help it?"

"It's a routine now. I can't not call you Agent Bristow."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't get you. One second you act like a complete prick towards me and the next you're flirting again." She let out a soft puff of breath. "You should get out of here before Cummings' men find you."

"The same goes for you. They know who you are. They know you're helping me. You're a target."

"And if you're not going to save me, I need to save myself. Is that what you're trying to say?"

Both of them began to descend the stairs at a less frantic pace than before.

They walked in complete silence all the way down the stairs and onto the beach. It appeared like they had lost their two, large Russian enemies.

"Was your conscience the only reason you saved me?" Sark asked.

"Yes," she said quickly. He raised his eyebrow at her. "No. There were a lot of reasons. The biggest one is that I felt like I still owed you from Rio."

"I thought we agreed that our acts of good faith canceled each other out."

"That was before I realized how big a favor you did by rescuing me. Taylor Cummings, the same man who propositioned you tonight, employed the men who were chasing me in Rio. You kept me out of his clutches. If those men had caught me, I probably would have end up losing at least another two years of my life. Which would not have been too fun."

"I doubt if they would have been able to keep hold of you for long, Sydney," Sark said. "Holding you hostage is twice as hard as capturing you. I speak from experience."

Sydney laughed. "Do you realize how bizarre this is?"

Sark shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"You. Me. Walking along a beach in Nice. Having a real conversation." She paused. "Without guns or fighting. I think this might be the first time you and I have ever talked without me punching you."

"If it makes you feel better, you can hit me," Sark offered.

"Don't tempt me." The two walked in silence for a little longer. Sydney was still trying to process how the CIA would handle her insubordination. Sighing, she turned to Sark, "This sounds crazy. But would you mind if I pretended that you caught me doing surveillance on you in there? It would be a lot easier if I could tell the CIA that you put a gun to my head to escape that situation alive."

"Then, like every other time I've held a gun to your head, you beat me up and escaped?" he asked with a spark of glee in his face. "Does this mean I get to hit you a few times to make it convincing?"

"No, but it means that I get to hit you." Sydney smiled and began to walk ahead of Sark a little.

Sydney wasn't sure what exactly happened. One minute she was turning to say something to Sark and the next she was face down on the rocks with a shooting pain going up her leg.

She looked up and saw Sark firing a few rounds into the rocks above them. His lips were moving but she couldn't tell what he was trying to say to her. The pain was clouding her vision and her hearing. As Sark stopped firing his gun and came over to look at Sydney, she felt her eyes roll back into her head. The last thing she remembered was feeling him pick her up and then everything went black.


	5. Partners

The first thing she realized when she woke up was that she was not on the rocky beaches of the Mediterranean. Instead, she seemed to be on some kind of silk covered bed. Sydney tried to open her eyes but realized the light was too bright for her to keep them open for more than a few seconds.

The little two-second glimpses she got gave her a little more information. She deduced that she wasn't in a hotel room, but rather it looked like a bedroom of someone's house. Whose house was still a mystery. There were no other people in the room so obviously whoever had her wasn't scared that she was going to make a breakout attempt.

Groaning, she sat up and was rewarded with a large thumping pain in the back of her head and in her right leg. She couldn't help but swear loudly.

Without seconds of her swearing, the door burst open and Sark busted into the room. "You're awake," he said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, I'm awake. What the hell happened to me?" She squinted at him as she tried to figure out what was going on.

"You got shot by Cummings' men about three times in your right leg."

Sydney looked down and realized that her leg was in a cast. She looked up at Sark with tears welling up in her eyes. "How bad is it?"

"Not that bad," he said, but she could tell that he was at least partially lying. "The short story is they shot you. I shot at them. They stopped shooting. I picked you up and brought you here."

"Why did you pick me up? I thought you said I was supposed to fend for myself on that beach. That you weren't going to protect me."

"I didn't protect. That's why you got shot. But I couldn't just leave you bleeding on the beach. I may be unfeeling, but I think I still have a heart in here somewhere." He tapped his chest for emphasis. "So, I brought you here."

"Where is here?"

"This is my home in London."

"Your home? You have a home? I didn't know people like you actually had homes."

Sark chuckled. "I'll take that insult as a sign that you're not completely out of it." He took a seat on the bed next to her. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm not going to sleep with you. Let's get that straight right now."

Sark began to laugh but then quickly sobered up. "You're not joking. You actually thought that I was going to ask you to sleep with me."

"Weren't you?" she asked.

"I was not. At least I wasn't going to at this point in the discussion."

Sydney decided a subject change was in order. "I knew you didn't save me out of the goodness of whatever shard of a heart you have. You have an agenda. What's your proposition, Sark?"

"Your leg. It's not as bad as it looks, but it's still pretty bad. The bullets broke the bone in a couple places and shredded a ligament or two. You're going to need to stay off of it for at least a few weeks, and then it will be at least two months of rehabilitation."

"Thank you, Doctor," she said with a laugh. "When can I go home?"

"That's where my proposition comes into play. I want you to stay here at my London home with me until you get better. Until your leg is completely healed."

"What the hell are you thinking?" she screamed. "I am not going to stay here with you! This is the last place I want to be."

"Listen to me for a moment, Agent Bristow. You know that I've always thought we would work well together. I've propositioned you with a partnership many times. Each time you turned me down. But I still think we would be an amazing team. Now is our chance to figure out if that's true. You stay here until your leg is better and then you're free to go. I just want your help on the project I'm currently working on. In exchange for your help, I'm going to give you access to the doctors I have connections with here in London. They'll help you get that leg healed and rehabilitated in at least half the time it would normally take."

"So if I help you, I'll get out of her quicker?" Sydney asked. She knew that she was going to have to stay here for at least a few weeks. An escape would not be easy with such a bulky cast on her right leg.

"You wouldn't even have to see me," Sark said with a smirk. "Unless you want to." She scowled at him. "I would just leave you some paperwork concerning the project every morning. You look it over, do what I ask, and then give it back to me. It should keep you occupied while you're waiting for the leg to heal."

"The CIA will be looking for me," she stated.

"I'm aware of that. The only problem is I don't think they know you're alive."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, turns out that my assassination wasn't the only big event that Taylor Cummings had planned for that night. There was an explosion in the castle's left wing."

"Where the ballroom was."

"Yes. The CIA assumed that you were in the ballroom during the time of the explosion because you haven't gotten in contact with them. You've been missing for a week now. They declared you officially dead yesterday. Turns out that I'm dead, too," he added.

"My friends and family aren't going to believe that I'm dead so easily this time," she informed him. "And they're not going to believe you got killed so easily. They're going to want solid proof of both of our deaths."

"I'm aware of that. But I don't think their search will lead them to investigate the London home of a man who's supposedly dead. Remember, I was supposed to be murdered that night. The blast wasn't what they would believe killed me. And as far as they knew, you didn't intervene on my behalf. They have no idea that you went against orders."

  
"Thank god I did," she muttered as she stared into space. "It's what saved my life. I would have been in that ballroom when the explosion happened."

"There's always a reason for everything," Sark said mysteriously. "So, what do you say, Bristow? Partners?"

"As much as I hate to admit it but that's my best, and probably only, option for now. You promise there's no hidden catches to this deal." When he nodded, Sydney held out her hand to Sark which he promptly shook. "Partners."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Two weeks later, Sark was still holding to the promise he had given her. She hadn't seen or heard him the whole time she had been staying at his home. Her stay at his home seemed more like a guest than a captive, which was a blessing and a curse. Every morning, there was a folder slipped under her door pertaining to the project he was working on.

The first morning she got one of these deliveries she was surprised to realize that Sark's little project was exactly the same thing she had been working on at the CIA. He planned to weaken the cells of the Covenant and ultimately destroy them. Sydney almost wished that he would break his promise and come and see her just so she could hear an explanation of what exactly he had against the Covenant which would make him want to take it down.

The CIA had always believed that Sark was working with the Covenant since they arranged for his release from CIA custody. Plus, Sark's inheritance was bankrolling the Covenant's current operations. It was interesting to see why all this was true and yet he wanted to bring down the organization.

From day to day, she read profiles on the different members of the Covenant. She devised psychological profiles from the facts she was given. Weaknesses were located, and she created ways to neutralize the agents' strengths. She was becoming very familiar with the inner workings of the Covenant. She could only assume that was all part of Sark's master plan.

Sydney found herself wondering how Sark had known that she was good at this type of work. She didn't think anyone had ever mentioned that fact that she started out as an analyst at SD-6 before Sloane allowed her to be put on active duty as an agent. So how did he know that this was the most beneficial use for her talent?

She was surprised to realize that she had no real qualms or reservations about giving Sark such helpful information. The first day, along with a quick explanation of what he wanted her to do, she received a hand-written note from him saying that in no way was he intending to use the information to cause a coup and take control of the Covenant himself. She had no reason to believe him, but strangely enough, she did believe him.

The fifteenth folder she received came with another note from Sark. She hobbled back to her bed and placed the folder on the nightstand. Sitting on the bed, she opened the envelope that had Sark's note inside. She read it slowly since she knew that whatever he had to say to her was important since he was trying to keep out of contact. When she was done reading it, she read it again to see if she could make any sense out of it.

The note said simply: "I'm sorry, Sydney. I was trying to hold the delivery of this folder off for as long as possible."

"Weird," she muttered as she reached for the folder. The label on the folder read 'Connections To Sydney'. "Even more odd." Opening it, she discovered the reasoning behind the note and the folder's label.

The folder had pictures of her mother, her father, Arvin Sloane, Assistant Director Kendall, Vaughn, Allison Doren, and Will. It also contained a sealed envelope. She set the envelope aside and began to leaf through the profiles of all the people in her life. Nothing was too surprising. Sark had made small notes on each of the profiles.

He called her mother a "brilliant goddess" and agreed that Irina had nothing to do with the Covenant. Her agenda was still unknown, but Sark seemed to believe that it didn't have any negative impact on his life. Her father's was much of the same except for the goddess part.

"It appears like Sark respects you, Dad," she whispered. Sydney set them aside. She was pretty sure that for the most of these profiles she wasn't going to do her normal routine of pulling out weaknesses and strengths. These were the people closest to her and there was no reason if Sark didn't think they didn't have a connection to the Covenant that she should work on them. Plus, she was fairly certain that she couldn't physically or mentally force herself to betray her friends and family.

Sloane's file was the exact opposite of her parents'. Sark had no respect for a man that he called underhanded and a complete piece of filth. Sydney smiled, knowing she wasn't the only one who detested him. She would be extremely happy to pick out this man's weaknesses.

Next was Will's file. She picked it up and smiled down at his picture. She really missed him in her life. She set it aside without looking. There was no way that Will had anything to do with the Covenant. That much she would always be sure of.

She was surprised to see a big Deceased stamp across Allison Doren's face. No one had ever confirmed that Will had killed her in the Gratz Hotel. Sydney had actually begun to believe that Allison Doren had some supernatural, freaky healing power. But obviously it wasn't that great of a healing power since Sark was calling Doren deceased. It was surprising that Sark, the man she had been working with at the time, would be privy to information that no one knew. For the hundredth time that day, she found herself wishing Sark were available for questioning.

Kendall's file was interesting. It noted that he was hiding something which could be connected with the Covenant. Sydney had always distrusted him, but she really didn't think he had enough guts or stupidity to cross the CIA and hide it so poorly. She noted that in the margins of Kendall's profile.

Sydney had purposefully saved Vaughn's profile for last. She wanted to blame that on the fact that she was afraid to see if Sark had come up with any connections between Vaughn or Lauren and the Covenant. In the back of her head, she knew that she was also afraid to see what comments Sark had personally made on the man in question.

The first comment pegged Vaughn as a completely loyal CIA agent who couldn't be swayed. Sark also noted that Vaughn was loyal to Sydney more than the government. In his own words, "Vaughn will do anything for Sydney. I believe that he loves her more than he loves his own wife. This could be used against him."

Most of the comments were as predictable as the first two. However, Sark's last comment floored her. "Vaughn's vision of Sydney is slightly askew. He doesn't know the real Sydney Bristow like I do. She's not the perfect little angel that he views her as. He's not aware of the dark side she has. The same dark side that makes her so similar to me."

She didn't even know where to begin analyzing that comment or the feelings it stirred up in her. She just pushed it to the side and stared at the one thing left for her to review. The closed envelope.

The fact that this was the first sealed envelope she had come across scared her. What was there inside of it that Sark was afraid to have any eyes except hers see? She slid her finger inside the crease of the envelope and ripped it open.

In the back of her head, she had convinced herself that this was going to be information confirming that Vaughn's wife was evil and working for the Covenant. She had wished that so many times that she wouldn't have been surprised if it was the truth. Which is why when she looked at the picture that fell out of the envelope she was so surprised.

"Weiss?" she blurted out. She read the whole profile over at least three times before she was able to form words to reason out what she had just learned. "From this profile, it seems highly likely that Weiss is a double agent for the Covenant. This is what Sark was apologizing for. He wasn't sorry that he had to dig up my past and investigate every person I've had contact with."

She rubbed the tears out of her eyes and stared at the picture of the man she had considered her greatest friend and confidante since she had returned from her missing two years. The man she had come to love and cherish was part of the organization that had stolen two years of her life. 

In a burst of anger, she shoved all the contents of the folder, every single one of the profiles, off of her bed. They scattered all over the room. If her leg wasn't still encased in a cast, she knew she would probably have run around the room smashing and kicking anything within her reach. Instead, she just sat on the bed and cried.

When she got a hold of herself, she noticed a small piece of paper that hadn't been thrown off the bed. It was written in Sark's handwriting and must have been in the envelope with Weiss's file because she hadn't seen it in with the other profiles.

All it said was "Just ask. S."

Realizing what he meant, she flipped the piece of paper over and wrote 'I want to see you'. She hobbled over to the door, taking care not to step on any of the scattered files, and slid it under the doorframe. She had just taken a step forward, but she didn't know for sure that it was in a direction she wanted to be gong.

Sydney picked Weiss's file up off the floor and returned to the bed. After reading through it one more time, she began to make comments. As much as it pained her to do it, if Sark thought Weiss was an agent for the Covenant, she needed to provide him with information.

She scribbled quick comments in the margin about Weiss's faults and how unbelievable it is that this man is disloyal to his government. But then something clicked in the back of her head. She flipped the first page of his profile over and began to write on the back.

"Weiss showed some suspicious behavior when I was on my last mission in Nice. I found out about your potential assassination when I overheard the assassins going over the procedure at a sidewalk café. I returned to the United States embassy in Nice to talk with Agent Vaughn and Agent Weiss. Weiss seemed normal at first. Agent Vaughn wasn't willing to listen to me when I said we couldn't let Taylor Cummings kill you. I chalk that up to his complete dislike of you. But what surprised me the most was that Agent Weiss agreed with him. It was very uncharacteristic. I think he was seizing a very easy moment to assassinate you. If you goal is truly to take down the Covenant, then you are his enemy more than you are mine. He pointed out that letting you get killed would be what the U.S. government wanted. That seemed a little odd to me, but I couldn't stand up to both of my handlers at the same time. So I gave it."

Sydney closed the folder and reclined back on the bed. Now all she had to do was wait for Sark to get her message and come to her.


	6. The Bubble

Her reflection in the mirror was not too pleasant, Sydney decided after much thought. Her hair wasn't very glamorous, just the normal brown, straight as a pin hair. Going on so many missions with so many great wigs spoiled her. She had never hated the way her hair looked before she began going on missions for SD-6. Right now, she was yearning for a really nice short, reddish brown wig that had slowly become her favorite. Though she had a soft spot in her heart for the bright red and punk purple ones.

Trying to stop the gigantic hair pout she was spiraling down, she turned her attention to her clothes. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a T-shirt she managed to pilfer from the one set of drawers Both were plain grey and had a rugby logo and the words 'Oxford Rugby' printed on them. She imagined that these were Sark's old clothes.

"Not only do I imagine," she whispered to herself, "I'm wishing they're his old clothing. What the hell is coming over me? And why the hell am I so nervous and fidgety?"

She rolled the pants up a few more inches so they weren't dragging on the ground too much. The t-shirt didn't give her much room to work with, so it just looked way too large. She wanted to smack herself for all the fussing at her appearance she was doing.

"Don't worry. You look good," said a voice from the doorway.

"Sark," Sydney said as she turned. "I didn't hear you knock."

"I didn't knock," he said smugly as he took a seat on the bed. "This is my house. I shouldn't have to."

"But you should show me the courtesy since I'm your guest."

"You're not my guest. You're my partner, Agent Bristow."

"If we're partners, Sark, you should call me Sydney."

"But Agent Bristow sounds so much sexier," he said with a smirk. "As much as I love the banter we seem to produce so readily…" He paused for emphasis, "…Agent Bristow, what did you want to talk with me about?"

"A million things. I want to know when you found out about Weiss. I want to know why you were watching my life so closely. I want to know what your real goal is with this investigation. I want to know your true reasoning for hating the Covenant and why you're still bankrolling their operations. I want to know if you're really going to let me go when this is all over."

"You want, you want, you want," Sark whispered, grinning at her.

"But mostly, I want to know if you played Rugby at Oxford."

Sark looked at her in surprise. "Where did that one come from, Sydney?"

She laughed. "You called me Sydney. I really did shake you up with that one, didn't I?" She pointed down at her apparel. "I've been ruining around in these for a few days now. I was just curious if my hunch about them being yours is right. And my curiosity has slowly started to drive me crazy."

"I don't want to tell you," he said. Seeing her face turn into a pout, he couldn't help but chuckle. "That pout isn't going to work on me. I'm too tough a spy. I don't want to let you know because I will lose my dangerous, mysterious man angle that's worked so well for me so far."

"You will always be dangerous in my eyes, Sark," she said taking a seat on the floor. "You went to Oxford, didn't you?"

"For two years, yes, I did. I was the best rugby player they had seen in ten years, I'd have you know. Too bad I got mixed up in the whole spy thing and left university." Sark smiled at her. "What question do you want me to answer next?"

"Explain to me how long you knew Weiss was working as a double agent. And maybe explain why I never caught on."

"You never caught on because you didn't want to catch on. Since the day I met you, you've intrigued me. That's one of the reasons. You're so cynical at times, but then you turn around and show such naiveté. I kept tabs on you and the people in your life to satisfy my curiosity."

"I always knew you were the creepy stalker type."

"I don't think that makes me a stalker. I mean, I didn't stand outside your window and watch you sleep. Well, there was that one time…" Seeing her shocked look, he almost doubled over with laughter. "I'm kidding. When you returned from your missing two years, I could tell right away that you were in desperate need of a lifeline."

"You could tell all that from behind a pane of Plexiglas."

"I could tell all that within seconds of seeing you for the first time. You wear your pain on your face, Sydney. Any moron could tell that you were in agony. You needed Weiss to be your lifeline at the time. I didn't know of his affiliations or else I would have warned you then. I just figured out he was working for the Covenant three weeks ago."

"Why the hell would you have warned me? Let's not pretend that you give a damn about me or my feelings."

"That's true. I have to look out for me and my interests first. But I still don't like to see you hurt. You're too good of an opponent. I don't want you to get screwed up so you can't play with me anymore."

"So, then, why did you wait all this time to tell me about Weiss? I've been here for a little over two weeks."

"Because I didn't want you to bolt. Your leg needs to heal." He paused. "Speaking of, I have good news. Your cast is going to be taken off tomorrow."

"Isn't it a little too soon for that? Broken legs take more than two weeks to heal."

"The drugs my doctors have been injecting in your leg speed up the healing process. It has something to do with your blood and the bone marrow in your leg, I think. All I know is it's the reason that I'm always at the top of my game. I get shot, the wound is healed by the end of the week. That's something that we're going to need to keep between us, by the way."

"My lips are sealed," she said. "I always wondered why you never seemed to be in pain for two long."

"So you do wonder about me?" he asked.

"Slip of the tongue. Never happen again," she said smiling but not making eye contact with him. "I have so many questions for you, Sark. I know you don't have time to answer them all though. Your whole life can't be devoted to helping me sort out the mess I've made of mine. Hell, even if I asked, you wouldn't give me help."

"Are you dismissing me?"

"No. I'm just pointing out the fact that you are probably too polite to tell me you have better things to do."

"You actually think I'm polite. The drugs must be starting to go to your head. I do have important things to do. But your questions are just as important for reasons I'm not going to say right now. And to answer one of them, my master plan does extend past taking down the Covenant. But we'll leave that as a mystery for now." Sark stood up. "I have a question for you, Sydney Bristow."

"Lay it on me."

"Do you still want me to keep out of your daily life?" he asked frankly. "You seemed a little too excited to see me today. Makes me think you might be going a little stir crazy without me."

"No, I don't want you to stay away. I think this 'partnership', as you call it, won't be completely effective unless I know what you're up to. Plus, I'm still a U.S. spy. I feel the need to keep tabs on you."

"Okay. So then my next suggestion shouldn't upset you too much. Your leg will be out of its cast tomorrow. I propose that each day I go for a walk with you. During the time we go for a walk, you can ask me as many questions as you want. I'll answer any of them that I can. That should keep you out of my business and allow you a time to ask your questions."

"Why are you doing this? You're acting so strange."

"I think I understand what you mean. Like I said, I fear that you're going to bolt the first chance you get. I don't think I'll ever be convinced that you're not searching for an escape route. That won't work well with my plan. So I need you here until your leg has healed." Sark walked over to the door. "Get some rest, Sydney."

She stretched out on the bed and cuddled a pillow up against her. "You intrigue me," she said as he walked through the open doorway.

"Same to you," he answered before shutting the door.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

For the first few days, Sydney kept the conversation light. She tried to slowly weasel out some personal information on Sark the person rather than his objectives. It was no lie when she told him he intrigued her. And she wanted to know more.

On the fourth day, Sark brought her a present. She smiled and took it from him.

"What is this for?"

"I thought you could use it," he answered simply. "You're starting to smell."

Sydney opened the box to reveal a pair of sweatpants, another Oxford Rugby t-shirt, a long sleeve white shirt, and a new pair of trainers.

"You look so good in my clothes that I didn't want to get you anything else."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Sark smiled at her. "Get changed. We're going outside today."

"Outside?" she said. Her eyes widened at the prospect of leaving the house.

"I figured it was about time you got some fresh air. The only condition is if I let you out of the house, you have to start asking me the questions you really want the answers to. No more of this beating around the bloody bush. Oh. And no trying to run away when we get outside these walls."

"Agreed," Sydney said. Before she could stop herself, she gave Sark a quick kiss on the cheek and ran into the bathroom to change. She emerged a few minutes later.

"Beautiful," he said with a smile. "Are you ready?"

"Where are we going?" She asked as they walked down out of her bedroom door, down the hall, and descended the front stairs.

"Hyde Park," he answered honestly. "It's got some excellently laid out paths which will be a great place for you to exercise that leg."

"I don't know if I can walk far enough to reach the park," she admitted. Sark only held the door open for her and smiled. She stared in amazement at what was across the street.

"Who says that it's that long of a walk?" he said with a smirk.

"I have been living across the street from Hyde Park and didn't even know it. How the hell did you keep this from me?"

"You have a love of Hyde Park?" he asked.

"My father took me here to cheer me up when we thought my mother died. He said it was her favorite spot in the world. I assume that was a lie. Most of what I once knew about her was."

"It wasn't," Sark said, looking at her through the corner of his eye.

Sydney glanced at him in astonishment for a moment. "I always forget that you had a close relationship with my mother."

"The only relationship I've ever had," Sark added. "Don't go spreading rumors that I actually have a friend." They walked in silence for a minute before Sark explained why he knew that little tidbit about her mother. "There was a reason that I purchased this house five years ago. Your mother loved this park so much that I wanted to give her a place to stay that was close by. Haven't the heart to move now that your mother has gone 'missing'."

"I assumed she had contacted you when you were released from CIA custody," Sydney said. "She didn't?"

"No. Irina has her reasons. I just don't know them yet."  
  
"Is that another reason why you wanted me to become your partner?"

"It was in the back of my head." Sark saw her stumble slightly and grabbed her arm. "Why don't you cut the brave act and lean on me, Sydney? I know you're hurting."

She nodded and put her hand on his left shoulder. "Can I ask you a question?"

"That was the deal we made. You walk while I talk."

"How are my friends and family doing?"

"Well, they are still searching for you. They refuse to believe that you're dead. It seems you've gotten a slight reputation at the CIA. It appears you're completely indestructible."

"I have come back from the dead quite a few times."

"That idiot, Michael Vaughn, isn't one of those still searching, though. He gave up on you again. I always said that he wasn't worthy of all the attention you gave him."

"You and my father have a lot in common," she said. "He never liked Vaughn either."

"So not only do I remind you of your dead fiancé, but I'm also similar to your father?" Sark shook his head. "You have one screwed up way of thinking."

"People tell me that. I think it fits my life perfectly," she said with a laugh. "My leg's starting to hurt. I think we should head back."

Sark nodded and turned them around.

"This situation you've put me in isn't good for me," Sydney said without meeting his eyes. "My opinion of you is changing. Changing into something that I know isn't true. I keep thinking that you're not the cold-blooded murderer I always saw you as."

"But I am, Sydney. I am."

"I know that in the back of my head. But you've been so nice to me that last three weeks. I can't squash this new side of you. Plus, I always seem to want to seek out the innate goodness in a person."

"Well, you keep trying as hard as you want. But I don't think I have any goodness in me."

"You saved me in Rio, didn't you?"

"I didn't do that out of the goodness of my heart. I did that to get myself where I wanted to be."

"And I know that. But I keep wanting to create this fictional image of you."

"Go ahead. Just know that one day soon that image is going to come crashing down. Because I am not the man you've created. I won't ever be."

Sydney stopped leaning on his shoulder and started to walk by herself. "I think my leg's feeling better. Thanks." Looking around, she added, "You know it's almost as if we're on a deserted island together."

"How so?"

"Well, no one knows we're here together. No one can save us from our predicament. You've created our own little bubble. In it, we can do whatever you want."

Sark grabbed her hand and stopped her from walking. "And what do you want, Agent Bristow? You've been dancing around that issue for weeks now."

She looked into his eyes but couldn't read any emotion. "I don't know yet."

"It scares you, doesn't it?" He said as he let go of her hand and began to walk again.

  
"What?" she asked.

  
"The fact that you're beginning to want something you know you shouldn't have and couldn't want."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

The next morning, Sydney was surprised by a knock on her door at least an hour before she was prepared to get up. Groggily, she slid a sweatshirt on. No matter how half-asleep she was, there was no way she was going to answer the door in just her underwear.   
  
She slid the door open slightly and was surprised to see not one of Sark's many domestic employees but the man himself.   
  
"What do you want at this ungodly hour?" she half mumbled, half slurred.   
  
"I thought you might want to go for breakfast and then maybe a small walk. Something not to taxing on your leg," he suggested, holding a water bottle out to her innocently.   
  
Doing her best to focus her eyes, she took in his appearance for the first time. He was definitely not dressed in one of his trademark suits. Instead he was wearing trackies and a rather old looking T-shirt. This was clearly not his usual style, but Sydney had to admit that she didn't mind the change.   
  
She opened the door the rest of the way to let him in. "You're one of those guys who look incredible in anything," she muttered as she made her way to the bathroom.   
  
"It's a gift," he said as he took a seat on one of the leather chairs.   
  
"I'll be out in a minute," she said as she disappeared into the bathroom.   
  
As soon as the door shut completely, she found herself swearing softly to no one in particular. For some unknown reason, she didn't like the fact that Sark was able to catch her so off guard. She had gotten so used to him being an unspoken present that it threw her off to have him suddenly be a part of her daily life. She knew she'd have to get herself used to it. She looked down at her leg in frustration.   
  
Sark pulled out his phone and started to make some business calls as he heard the shower begin to run. After about fifteen minutes, he vaguely heard Sydney emerge from the bathroom.   
  
"I'm ready for a nice plate of waffles with strawberries and blueberries," she said with a smile.   
  
He nodded and got off the phone rather quickly. As they left her bedroom, Sark couldn't help but make a snarky comment. "I bet you can put away quite a few waffles."   
  
Sydney laughed. "How did you know?"   
  
"You look like the kind of girl that can eat tons and tons of food and never gain a pound."   
  
"It's the lifestyle," she said with a smile as they descended the stairs. "Where are we going?"   
  
"I'm going to take you to my favorite dinner down the street. Now, understand. This is a privilege I am all too willing to take away."   
  
"It's a privilege, huh?"   
  
Sark smiled at her and held the front door open. "You won't believe me until you eat their food. But once you've tasted the cooking, you'll never want to go to another restaurant for breakfast. So it would be pure torture for me to take it away from you." He paused and looked thoughtful. "Come to think of it. I think I'll just take away the privilege just to see you suffer."   
  
"You would, wouldn't you?" Sydney glared at him and then smiled. "Good to know you're still a complete bastard."   
  
"Your words of love touch me, Bristow."   


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sydney couldn't believe she was doing this.   
  
It had all started when Sark admitted to her over morning coffee that he had never had a proper Italian pizza. After getting over her initial disbelief, she scolded him for never partaking in the cuisine when he was on missions in Italy and the surrounding areas. It was near impossible to not have pizza when you were in Italy, so she still didn't quite understand how he had avoided it.   
  
How that had led to her cooking him a pizza in the little used kitchen of his house, she had no idea. There a massive mess of flour, tomatoes, cheese, vegetables, and dirty dishes surrounded her. But at least there was one glorious pizza with the works cooking in the oven.   
  
Now she just had to wait for Sark to come back from whatever errand he had run off on this time.   
  
"Have you gone domestic on me?" she heard someone ask from the kitchen doorway.   
  
"I think I have," she said with a smile and a wag of her eyebrows. "Pizza."   
  
"You made me pizza? I think I may have to marry you now."   
  
"I have one extremely opinionated father who would not be happy hearing that."   
  
Sark sat down on one of the kitchen stools and grabbed a piece of pepperoni that was sitting on the counter. "Your father is the scariest man I have ever met."   
  
"He would take that as a compliment," Sydney said as she took a seat next to him.   
  
"I bet he would. So what's with the sudden need to cook?"   
  
"Well, I was appalled yesterday when you said you had never really eaten a proper pizza. So I found my way down to the nearest grocery and picked up some supplies." She looked at him mischievously. "Or maybe I should just tease you with it instead of actually letting you eat it."   
  
"You've been thinking of a way to get revenge since the diner incident, huh?"   
  
"Damn straight!" she exclaimed. "Is it going to work?"   
  
"With the way that pizza smells, I'd say yes."   
  
Sydney left the room for a moment and came back in with a stack of papers. She threw them down in front of Sark as she took her seat again. "Here are the files you left for me this morning. All analyzed."   
  
"Very efficient. Thank you."   
  
"I honestly don't know why I'm doing this for you."   
  
"Because if you weren't, I'd have to kick you out on the curb and you'd miss my incredible charm."   
  
"Bullshit," she muttered as she stood up to remove the pizza carefully from the oven. "All done." She set it right in front of Sark and cut it into four massive pieces. "Now pay attention. This is what makes you and I so different. Even thought I know how much fun it would be to taunt you, I'm going to let you eat it alone with me."   
  
Sark looked at her intently. "For once, I wish I could see you act like a complete bastard. It would be fun."   
  
"Keep annoying me and you will."   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
"I almost feel like I'm dating you," Sydney blurted out nervously on their second week of walking together.   
  
"How so?" Sark asked her, taking the question as a reason to take a small break.   
  
"Well, we've become almost domestic with one another. You wake me up every morning and we get some breakfast in that absolutely fabulous diner. Then you go off to work, leaving me at home. You come home either with dinner or you take me out. I feel like I'm married to you."   
  
"And is that a bad thing?"   
  
Sydney glared at him. "Did you ever notice that you almost always answer me with a question? It's quite annoying."   
  
"And is that a problem?"   
  
"Now you're doing it on purpose."   
  
"True." Sark started to walk again and Sydney rushed to catch up. "I'm just trying to make your stay here comfortable. I know you're grappling with some hard topics. Your only friend in the world being a spy for the Covenant and all. I just thought you could use someone being nice to you while you're pretending to be dead."   
  
"You're trivializing the situation."   
  
"I'm trying to keep this situation from getting too heavy. I've seen agents destroyed by a hell of a lot less than what you're facing. We may be on opposite sides, but I don't want you to be wrecked by this. I've never found an opponent as fascinating and frustrating as you. I'd like to keep it like that."   
  
"I'll take that as a compliment."   
  
"It was meant as one."   
  
The two walked in silence for a few minutes before Sydney responded. "You know, I always thought of you in the same way." He looked at her with a little surprise in his eyes. "Don't be so stunned. You're a very good opponent, too, you know. I always enjoyed the little confrontations we had on missions."   
  
"I bet you even enjoyed the missions we went on together at SD-6."   
  
"No, those were infuriating. I think we work better on opposite sides."   
  
"I would disagree, but we won't get into that right now. Keep complimenting me, please."   
  
"You are so conceited."   
  
"Yes, I am. Your point?"   
  
She couldn't help but laugh at his candidness. "You're good though," she admitted. "Not as good as me, but good all the same. I actually would find myself getting excited when I realized that we were both at the same location trying to acquire the same thing. You were always a challenge."   
  
"And you always enjoyed kicking the crap out of me, right?"   
  
"It was a perk. I'll confess to that."   
  
"You know you don't have to go back to the CIA," Sark said abruptly.   
  
"Where did that come from?"   
  
"I just thought you'd want to know that you had the option. Of staying here and helping me. If you wanted."   
  
"You sound almost nervous. Are you afraid I'll take you up on your offer?" Sydney wasn't surprised to get no response from him. He never really liked to get that deep into a conversation about his fears. She had realized that slowly through the past few weeks. "Rest easy. I'm not going to stay with you. No matter what."   
  
"You still feel like you have a home at the CIA," he stated more than asked.   
  
Sydney let the observation sink in as they reached the front door of Sark's home. As he opened the door for her, she finally commented on it. "You don't think that the CIA is my home anymore."   
  
"Admit it. It hasn't really felt right to you since you've returned from your missing two years."   
  
"That's just because I'm still getting used to the fact that I lost two years of my life. It's taking a little time for me to readjust."   
  
Sark patted her cheek lightly and whispered, "You just keep telling yourself that. Eventually, you'll believe it."   
  
Sydney watched in shock as he walked away from her. When he was almost out of sight, she found her voice and yelled, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you don't know anything about my life."   
  
He turned around and winked at her as he continued to walk backwards.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

The weeks flew by as Sydney's leg began to heal. Every morning, like clockwork, Sark appeared at her door and they went on a walk. When they were done, he dropped her off at the door of her room and handed her a file folder. She analyzed the material and handed it back to him the following morning. It was routine. It was simple. Or at least it should have been.

The only thing that shattered her routine was her emotions. For the first week, she tried to deny it. For the second week, she tried to hide it. For the third week, she tried to end it. On the first day of the fourth week, she hastily admitted to it. Somewhere down the line, she had started to like the one man she had every reason to hate.

When he came to pick her up in the first morning of that fourth week, he immediately noticed that something was different. He ignored it, though. If she wanted to tell him, she would. He had no reason to want to pressure information out of her. At least now when he could get her to admit it to him of her own free will.

They walked in silence out of the building and across the street. When they reached their normal park bench, Sydney sat down without saying a word.

"Your leg seems to be doing better, Syd," Sark said. Slowly he had dropped the habit of calling her Agent Bristow. Then, as they became more and more familiar with each other, he had shortened her name like all of her friends had done in the past. It should have made Sydney made, but it didn't. Not at all.

"I think it's almost healed." She paused, letting the statement's full meaning sink in for both her and Sark. "I'll be leaving soon."

Sark nodded and stared at the children who were playing a puddle across from them. He only turned back to Sydney when he heard her sniffle and saw her hand come up to wipe tears away from her eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He was slightly taken aback that he actually wanted to know the answer.

She sighed and then started to laugh. "It's nothing." She got up from the bench and began to walk further into the park.

"It's not nothing," Sark said as he ran to catch up with her. "Why don't you tell me?"

He expected her to refuse to tell him. He expected some sarcastic remark about him having no right to pry into her personal feelings. At the very least he expected a scowl. What he got was extremely unexpected.

Sydney began to hit him rather hard and rather fast in the chest.

For the pure reason of saving himself from too many bruises, he struggled to grab her arms. When he had both of her wrists pinned against his chest with one hand, he felt her begin to cry again.

  
"What is going on inside your head?" he wondered mostly to himself.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and realized, no matter how good a liar she had become over the years, she couldn't dance her way out of this situation.

"This breaks all the rules I've ever set for myself. For the first time in years, I'm lost in my damn emotions. And I don't like it."

"You're not making any sense, Syd," he said with a laugh.

"This isn't funny. I was not supposed to fall in love with you." She watched as his eyes widened in disbelief and he loosened his grip on her wrists. She shrugged out of the hold on his arms and turned away from him. "I had someone else. I was supposed to be pinning away from Vaughn. I'm supposed to still be hopelessly in love with him. It's what everyone expects." She paused and looked up at him. "I told myself that I wasn't going to let this happen."

"What?" he asked.

  
"I wasn't supposed to let this love get through my defenses. It goes against everything I've ever known or felt. I can't understand it."

"I don't understand it either."

"So, this wasn't part of your plan?" she asked.

"No. I can say one hundred percent that I didn't plan on this to happen."

"I know what kind of person you are. I keep telling myself that you're the kind of guy that a girl looks at fondly wondering if you're as slick as you look. If you'd be good in bed." She saw him chuckling. "Don't laugh. You know it's true. You're not the kind of guy a girl falls for."

"But you did," Sark said. He was still trying to digest her little announcement.

"I did. And it pisses me off so much. But in a wacky kind of way, it makes sense. Over the past month, you've shown that you really understand who I am. Unlike everyone I've ever worked with, you understand that I'm not this perfect little agent who can't do wrong. Who doesn't want to do wrong. I really am my mother's daughter." She walked up to him and placed his hand on her chest over where her heart was pounding. "I don't understand it. But this is what the man I should despise, a cold-blooded killer who doesn't have any sort of emotion, the one man I hate with all my heart… this is what you do to me. And I can't explain it."

"So what do we do now?" Sark said looking into her eyes.

"I need to get this out of my system. I'm going to go back to the CIA as soon as this leg is healed. That's not going to change."

"What exactly are you proposing?" he asked. Every word she said confused him more and more.

"This," she whispered as she pulled his lips down to hers heatedly.

The kiss was forceful and full of more passion than any other kiss Sydney had ever given a man. She was afraid that it almost bordered on the lines of indecency.  
  
"Damn," Sark said when she pulled away.

  
"You feel it, too. There's something there." Sydney took a step back to catch her breath. "Let's just put the analyzing on hold for the rest of my time here. For once, I just want to follow my heart without worrying about the consequences or repercussions."

"I don't love you, Sydney."

She laughed. "Well, it's good that one of us hasn't lost their mind."

He couldn't help but laugh with her. "You are the most confusing woman I have ever met."

"And it intrigues you, right?"

"Exactly. Which is why I'm going to go along with this. Where do we begin?"

"We begin by you forgetting every plan you've made for today. Instead, you're going to spend all your time with me. I only have you for a week. That gives me a limited amount of time to sort out what exactly this is."

"This is going to end in a week. That won't change."

"I know. It's better that way anyhow."

"You confuse the hell out of me, Sydney Bristow."

"Good. We'll go from there," she said as she pulled him into another kiss.


	7. Returning To Life

Sark stood in front of the bathroom mirror adjusting his tie. He couldn't believe he had agreed to any of this. Satisfied with the way his tie lay on his shirt, he moved on to buttoning his cuff links. Honestly, he really thought that Sydney had lost her mind when she proposed the situation they were currently in.   
  
He had told her the truth. He was not in love with her.   
  
And he could never be. Love just didn't factor into his life, his plans. He didn't have the time or the desire.   
  
In the back of his head, though, there was a little voice crying that if he ever did want to fall in love, it would be with a woman like Sydney Bristow. Strong, stubborn, intelligent, beautiful. His equal in every single way. It definitely would be a punishment if he had to live with her for the rest of his life.   
  
"But just because I'm not in love doesn't mean I can't have a little fun," he said to his reflection. He winked at himself and turned to leave the bathroom. He was surprised to see Sydney standing in the open doorway of his room.   
  
"Were you flirting with yourself?" she asked with a sly grin.   
  
He smiled at her and held out his hand. "You look absolutely stunning."   
  
Sydney slid her hand into his. "Thank you. It was kind of you to provide me with so many dress choices."   
  
"Your mother left them behind. I hope you're not offended that I offered them to you."   
  
"Not at all. I know that I should be angry and that this secondhand dress thing probably has something to do with a subconscious desire for me to be my mother. But I don't care." Sydney laughed and stood back to take a good look at Sark. "You look very handsome tonight. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were actually making an effort."   
  
"I always like to look good." Sark sighed, realizing he might actually have to cut the sarcasm out of his voice. "I may not be in love with you, Sydney. But I'm still attracted to you."   
  
"Was that an actual honest statement you made?"   
  
"Yes," he said with a laugh. "And you bloody well better not get used to it. I don't like the way it tastes."   
  
They stood in silence staring at each other while still holding hands. Neither really knew what to say to the other. Finally, Sydney broke the silence.   
  
"What don't you ask me?"   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"You want to know if I still think I'm in love with you," she said simply. "We've been doing... whatever we're doing for days now. You want to know if anything changed, if I'm still in love with you. So ask."   
  
"Are you?"   
  
She dropped her hand from his and sat down on the bed. Sark sat down on the opposite side of the bed. "Worse than before. I know I shouldn't be, and I know you haven't been especially nice to me the past week. Not more than normal. Which is good. Because if you were ever nice to me, I think it would border on creepy."   
  
"You're leaving tomorrow," he stated simply. He knew she was trying to avoid talking about whatever was occurring between them as much as possible. That didn't mean he should allow her. If she were going to get over this weird stage in her life, he would have to get her to discuss her feelings to death. It was the only logical solution.   
  
"I know I'm leaving tomorrow. Which is why I asked you to look nice for tonight. A little bon voyage for me, you know?"   
  
"Shouldn't you get this situation fixed before you try to return to your beloved CIA?"   
  
"Oh, I will. I have one last step to go through and then I think I'll have you completely out of my system." She stood up and walked over to where he was sitting on the bed.   
  
"Good," he said with a smile as he stood up. "Shall we go then?"   
  
"Wait," she said pushing him back down on the bed. She walked over to the still open door and shut it softly. "I have a few questions for you."   
  
"Like what?"   
  
"I know you're not in love with me. But are you at least attracted to me?"   
  
Sark looked at her face intently. "I can tell this means a lot to you. So I'll be as frank as possible. You are an extremely sexy, intelligent woman, Sydney. Any man would be a fool if they didn't want you. Since the first moment I saw you, with that horrendous magenta wig singing in that nightclub in Paris, I've been attracted to you. Finding out you were Irina's daughter, seeing you in action, realizing how loyal you are to the ones you care for. That only strengthened the attraction. No, I don't love you. But I want you."   
  
"Good," Sydney said as she pushed the straps of her dress down, and the dress fell into a puddle around her feet. "Because I'm going to let you have me."   
  
She saw the heat in his eyes spark up and realized two things. One, he wasn't lying. He really was attracted to her. And two, there was no taking back what she had just done. Even so, she heard him ask softly, "Are you sure about this?"   
  
"Positive. I want you just as much as you want me." She slowly began to loosen his tie. "The mysterious, dangerous man angle works wonders for you." She giggled. "You were right earlier. When you asked if I had ever thought about having sex with you. I have. Numerous times. It's what got me through all those boring SD-6 meetings."   
  
He laughed. "I knew it."   
  
By his loosened tie, she pulled him up off of the bed to stand in front of her. "This isn't going to be gentle," she stated. "And that's the way I want it."   
  
His face immediately sobered, and Sydney was happy to feel his gaze become heated. Sark was surprised that she knew just what buttons to push to get him to want her like he's never wanted anyone before. If he didn't watch himself, he might find that he was actually sad to see her go.   
  
Sydney seized the moment as she noticed he was becoming distracted in his own thoughts. She tightened the hold she had on his tie and yanked his lips to hers in a hard, crushing kiss. A giggle almost erupted from her lips when she realized that his mind might not be into it but his body definitely was.   
  
Sark had been surprised by her aggressive first move but he wasn't one to let her keep the upper hand. That wouldn't be true to his nature. This situation hadn't been his idea. That didn't mean he wasn't going to take advantage of the fact that an incredibly attractive woman was standing in front of him asking him to sleep with her. Satisfied with the quick decision he had made, he wrapped his arms around her and picked up her lightly intending to move her over to sit down on the table that was up against the wall.   
  
She had other ideas, though. Just like Sark had decided, she wasn't about to let him take the advantage away from her. In her mind, the only way this was going to properly work was if she called all the shots. Sydney bit his ear teasingly and snaked her legs around him while whispering a rather surprise command into his ear.   
  
"Sydney," he tisk tisked. "You don't really want me to do that."   
  
"You bet I do," she said as she ground her body into him.   
  
Sark was thrown off a little and loosened his hold on her. Seizing the moment, she extracted herself from his arms and walked over to the bed. She pulled the hair tie out of her hair and felt it fall down to cover her shoulders.   
  
Sark's eyes narrowed in desire as he took in the sight of her. "Did you know my weakness is garters?" he asked matter-of-factly.   
  
"Every man's is." She held her finger up and motioned for him to come over. When he got close to her, she leaned in and whispered, "I want you to prove to me that the real thing is better than my fantasies."   
  
He smiled wickedly and pushed her down on the bed. "She has no idea what she's getting herself into," he thought.   
  
"He has no idea what he's getting into," she thought from her position on the bed.   
  
After unbuttoning his shirt slowly, Sark lay down on top of her and began to trail kisses all over her body. It was a little technique he had picked up on a mission in Singapore. He hoped she appreciated it and was delighted to hear her moans become a little more jagged as he worked his way down her stomach.   
  
As he felt her get more winded up, he stopped in the direction he was heading and returned to kiss her lips lightly. His hands never stopped searching her body, and she jumped involuntarily when they started to tease her thighs lightly. Sark let out a small laugh at her surprise.   
  
Realizing that she had, in her momentary lapse of thought, let him get the upper hand, Sydney quickly schemed a way to put the attention back onto him. She grabbed his hands from their current position and put it on her back near the clasp of her bra. As he unhooked it, she kept her eyes locked with his eyes. She didn't want him backing out of this.   
  
The bra fell to the ground, and Sark let out an appreciative noise. "I was right. You are perfect."   
  
She smiled and pulled him back towards her in another crushing kiss that beat out all the previous ones in intensity. Losing herself to the moment, she bit his lip hard enough to cause it to bleed.   
  
"I told you I didn't want you to be gentle," she said as she licked where the blood was pooling on his lips. "I didn't lie."   
  
Sark suddenly got a strange look on his face and hurriedly got off the bed. He shrugged off his unbuttoned shirt and threw it over to her.   
  
"Cover up, Sydney. I'm not going to sleep with you." She stared at him in hurt as she put the shirt on and buttoned it up. "Please don't cry. I don't think I'm strong enough to resist you if you did."   
  
"Why are you resisting me?" she asked. "I thought you said that you were attracted to me. I thought you wanted me."   
  
"Oh god, do I. I've always wanted to know what this would be like," he added with a smirk. He quickly sobered as he realized he was getting off track. "But I don't like what this has turned you into."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
Sark put his hand up to feel his cut lip. "You bit my lip and then licked the blood. That is not something I would have thought you would do."   
  
"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought you did."   
  
"I do know you, Sydney. You're trying to be the kind of woman you think I could fall in love with. That tells me that you don't really know me. I'm not going to sleep with you and give you the false hopes that it's going to make me magically ask you not to return to the CIA and stay here with me. It wouldn't. So I'm going to save you the pain."   
  
Sark made a move to leave the room but he felt Sydney softly touch his arm. Turning, he saw that she did look like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry," he whispered.   
  
"It's okay," she said, smiling through the tears. "I'm used to the men in my life causing me pain. It's almost a requirement for them. I'm just shocked that you actually showed some emotion towards me."   
  
"I did, didn't I?" he said, amazed that he really had shown consideration towards her. "Maybe we've been sucked into the Twilight Zone."   
  
"That's something you and I have in common."   
  
"What would that be?"   
  
"We're both hard in the inside. You and I, we've dealt with too much pain through the years. We're both young and cynical and sarcastic."   
  
"You're right," he said with a smile, sitting down next to her on the bed.   
  
"Stay with me," she demanded simply.   
  
"I told you that I wasn't going to have sex with you," he answered. Since the situation had once again turned to a serious, uncomfortable place, he made another move to get to the door. Her words made him stop.   
  
"And I'm not asking you to. Not anymore. I just don't want to be without you. This is my last night with you, and I still haven't figured out what the hell is going on in my head and in my heart. So just stay with me. It will help." Without looking to see his reaction, she laid down on the bed facing the wall.   
  
He stared at her resting body for at least five minutes and then swore softly to himself that she was going to be the end of him. Sighing, he stripped down to his boxers and lay down next to her. He could feel her jump slightly as he slide his arms around her.   
  
"Did I scare you?"   
  
"I thought you had left," she whispered without turning over to look at him.   
  
"I didn't."   
  
"Good," she whispered.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
In the morning, Sydney awoke to find herself in an empty bed. She would have thought the previous night was a dream if she weren't still wearing Sark's shirt. His desertion wasn't a surprise to her. It was typical. Last night had caused him to show too much emotion and now he would logically want to distance himself from her.   
  
She stood up off the bed and felt the familiar throbbing in her leg. It may be mostly healed, but she knew everything wasn't right with it quite yet. But everyone else was right. She was ready to go home, physically and emotionally. No matter how much she denied it, she missed her life in L.A. quite a lot.   
  
There was a note tapped to the mirror in her room. She walked over and detached it.   
  
"I'm sorry to have left you," the note from Sark began. "But it makes for a less messy detachment if I'm not there. Call me a coward next time we meet. I'm looking forward to your harsh, unforgiving words. See you in the field, Agent Bristow."   
  
"Yeah, back to the same old cold self," she mumbled to herself as she began to pack her bags.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Life in Los Angeles hadn't changed at all in the two months she had been missing. It was the same roads, the same horrible traffic, the same drivers full of road rage.   
  
"It's good to be home," she mumbled as she used her access key to open the gate in front of the CIA's parking garage.   
  
She hadn't expected it to be this easy to gain entrance onto the premises. Especially since the official CIA verdict was that she had been killed in Nice. Sighing, she slipped her car keys into her pocket and began to walk into the building.   
  
A new face was at the security check-in. There must have been a few new hires while she was gone. Because the new security check-in man was currently checking a woman she had never set eyes on before. It was odd to see two faces at once. The Agency really tried to keep the new hires completely integrated with those they deemed veterans of the job.   
  
When the security man saw Sydney standing there, he swiftly asked, "Can I help you?"   
  
"I need to speak with Director Dixon as soon as possible. Thank you."   
  
"Who the hell are you to demand something like that?" the woman next to her practically yelled.   
  
"Excuse me. I don't think that's any of your business." Sydney turned her attention back to the security man. "Please just call Dixon and tell him that there's a walk-in he really needs to see. Immediately," she added for emphasis. She would just tell them her name but she was really afraid of the consequences that may cause. For all she knew, the current CIA theory might be that she wasn't really dead, but her body had been doubled. And then they would think she was the evil double.   
  
She sighed to herself wondering when her life had become so strange and addressed the security man again. "He's probably in his daily meeting with Jack Bristow. You can interrupt them. They'll both want to see me."   
  
Before she could realize what had happened, she found herself face down on the cement floor with her arms pinned behind her back. The woman was slapping a pair of handcuffs onto her wrists.   
  
"What are you doing?" she screamed as her face was smashed harder into the floor.   
  
"I'm taking you into U.S. custody. You obviously are trying to infiltrate this organization. It may have been smarter if you had chose to start at the bottom and work your way to the top instead of just jumping right up to the top. Stupid rookie agent."   
  
Sydney was yanked to her feet. The security man was buzzing the door open for her.   
  
"You are making a huge mistake..."   
  
"Agent Conway."   
  
"Agent Conway. You're new, aren't you?"   
  
"I've been undercover in Guatemala for a few years now. So, I guess you could say I'm new to this branch. But other than that, no I am not new to this job at all. But I don't know why I'm sharing this information with an enemy agent."   
  
"I'm not a fucking enemy agent," Sydney hissed.   
  
"I've never seen you around her. Never. And you seemed pretty knowledgeable about the Director and his schedule. Sounds pretty suspicious."   
  
Sydney laughed. "Just take me to see Dixon. But I warn you, if you don't get these handcuffs off of me, you might lose your job."   
  
"That's a load of crap. Don't they teach you to lie better in evil spy school?" Agent Conway ushered her through the rows of desks towards the main office. "And I have you know it would take a lot for me to lose my job. I'm the best agent they have in this office right now. The best."   
  
"Well, you just became runner-up in that category." Sydney smiled at Dixon's secretary.   
  
Agent Conway asked, "Marlene, could you please buzz the door open? We need to talk with Director Dixon."   
  
Marlene just stared back and forth at Agent Conway, then Sydney, and back, in shock for a few seconds and then pressed the buzz door opener.   
  
"Director Dixon, I apprehended this woman trying to work her way into the building to talk with you. I think she may be working for The Covenant."   
  
Dixon smiled at Sydney. "She did work for them for about two years. But we forgave her for that. Sydney. I had a feeling you weren't dead."   
  
"So I heard. Anyway, you know how hard it is to kill me. People try. No one ever succeeds." Sydney held her handcuffed wrists up. "Do you think you could get your Agent Conway to take off the handcuffs?"   
  
Dixon nodded at Conway. "Stephanie, I'd like you to meet the best agent this office has ever seen."   
  
"I told you that you weren't the best agent anymore," Sydney whispered as the handcuffs clicked open. She rubbed her wrists where the handcuffs had scrapped them.   
  
"Sydney Bristow, your replacement, Agent Stephanie Conway."   
  
"Pleased to meet you," Sydney said. She turned her attention to the other man in the room. "Dad. Glad to see that you didn't land yourself in prison looking for me again."   
  
"Sydney," Jack whispered as he pulled his daughter into a hug. "Where were you?"   
  
Sydney looked hesitantly at Stephanie Conway.   
  
"You can talk in front of her," Dixon said. "She took the place you vacated in the Agency. She's up to speed on the whole Covenant/Hand situation."   
  
Sydney nodded. "I was with Sark. But before I get to the specifics of how that happened, I have to explain something to you. I came across some information in the time I was missing. The CIA has a mole like we all suspected. But it wasn't anyone we had put under investigation. Eric Weiss has betrayed his country."   
  
"Impossible," Stephanie yelled. She grabbed Sydney's shoulder sharply and began to shake her hard. "Take it back now."   
  
"Agent Conway, step away from my daughter," Jack said menacingly. When Stephanie had let go, he continued, "If Sydney says Weiss may have betrayed, we need to take that into consideration. Don't let your personal ties interfere with your judgment."   
  
"Personal ties?" Sydney asked.   
  
"She is currently dating the man in question," Jack said.   
  
"I should get you in touch with my friend, Will," Sydney said, addressing Stephanie. "He had to cope with his girlfriend being evil, too. You guys could form a support group."   
  
"Sydney!" Jack exclaimed. He was startled at her harshness.   
  
"Sorry," she apologized. "I may have spent a little too much time around Sark. I can't seem to hold my anger or sarcasm in check anymore. I apologize, Miss Conway."   
  
"I have to say that I find it as hard to believe as Stephanie," Dixon stated, trying to move the subject back on course. "Eric Weiss has always put forth twice as much effort in his work than most agents. It doesn't seem likely that he's working for an enemy organization."   
  
"But he is." Sydney pulled out the folder that Sark had left with her the day before. "This had enough hard evidence inside to support my claim a million times over. But I'd also like to point out that there's proof of his disloyalty in this room." Sydney pointed to where Stephanie was now sitting on a chair softly crying. "Weiss is dating my replacement. It makes sense. Without me around, he would be slowly sucked out of the information loop. I kept him in it because he's been my rock since I returned from my mission two years. But with me gone, there was no reason for him to be kept informed of one hundred percent of the going on's. So he attached himself to my replacement."   
  
"Eric loves me," Stephanie hissed.   
  
"That may be true. But he didn't start out your relationship loving you." Sydney placed her hand on Stephanie's shoulder in support. "I'm sorry. I know how much this hurts."   
  
"You have no idea," Stephanie said glaring at the woman next to her.   
  
"Oh, don't I? I was told my mother died in a car accident when I was six. The truth was she was an agent for the KGB who staged her own death when my father began to catch on to her agenda. She was ordered to come to the United States and seduce my father. When the situation got too complicated, she extracted herself. I didn't know any of this until a few years ago. Since then, my mother has betrayed this government and my trust on numerous occasions. Then, because of my job, I lost two years of my life. I came back to a world I didn't recognize. The man I loved was happily married. My father was in jail. My two best friends were either dead or in Witness Protection. Don't lecture me about suffering. Because I'm the queen of suffering."   
  
Stephanie just stared at Sydney with wide eyes.   
  
"Sorry. I tend to rant when I'm fired up. And there's that whole living with a bad influence for the past few months thing," she apologized. "Dixon, maybe you should give Agent Conway the day off."   
  
"Yes, I think that's a good idea. Stephanie, you may leave, but don't tell anyone of the conversation we just had. And try to avoid contact with Eric."   
  
Once the door had shut behind Stephanie, Jack began firing questions at her. "How did you come across this information? Why weren't you in the castle when it exploded in Nice? Why were you with Sark for all this time?"   
  
"Sark gave it to me willingly. I was outside saving Sark's life. Because he offered me help." She sighed. "Stop asking questions, Dad. It's only going to confuse you more."   
  
"Tell us the whole story," Dixon said as he sat down at his desk.   
  
"The day I was supposed to carry out my mission in Nice, I found out that Taylor Cummings planned to kill Sark if he refused his offer. I told Vaughn and Weiss and they both agreed that the US government wouldn't mind if Sark were killed."   
  
"They shouldn't have made that decision without authorization," Dixon said.   
  
"Don't fault them. Vaughn never liked Sark. We all know that. And Weiss was seizing the moment to save the Covenant. You see, it turns out that Sark is working towards the same goal as us. He wants to take down the Covenant."   
  
Sydney took a deep breath. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. I agreed with Vaughn and Weiss until the moment actually occurred. I couldn't let Sark just die so I chose to go in and save him. I helped him get out of the castle, but when we were on the beach, I got shot in the leg. Sark picked me up and carried me to safety."   
  
"Why would he do that?" Jack asked.   
  
"I still don't know the answer to that question. But I'm glad he did. He took me to his home and offered a deal. He would help me rehabilitate my broken leg as quickly as possible if I did some analysis work for him. Which is what I've been doing and where I've been for the past few months."   
  
"How is your leg now, Sydney? I assume it was well enough for you to make your way home."   
  
Sydney realized that Dixon was trying to sound like he was only trying to be practical. But the answer to this question was a lot more important than Dixon would let on. "My leg is fine. It still hurts me in the morning. But I've learned to work through the pain. It can take the pressure of my whole body weight, but I'm still not up to one hundred percent. Sorry."   
  
"Good enough. How did you get away from Sark, anyway?" Dixon asked.   
  
Sydney laughed. "It wasn't like I was in prison. We had an agreement. When my leg was fully healed, I was free to go. And here I am."   
  
Dixon turned to Jack. "Will you excuse us for a moment, Jack?"   
  
Jack nodded, hugged his daughter one last time, and left the room.   
  
"Sydney, I didn't want your father to hear this because I know he would argue. But I wanted to let you know that now is the perfect time for you to do what you always wanted."   
  
"Run the New York marathon?" she asked.   
  
He laughed. "No. Quit the CIA. Agent Conway is almost of the same caliber that you are. No one will ever be as good as you, Syd, but she's damn close. If you don't want to be with the CIA, you don't have to."   
  
"Dixon, I came back here for my job. It wasn't just out of obligation to tell you about Weiss. I want to start working again as soon as possible." Dixon looked down at his desk in avoidance. "What aren't you telling me, Dixon?"   
  
"I saw you walking in here, Sydney. You may have said your leg was almost completely better, but you were limping. Your leg isn't as healed as you think it is."   
  
"I know that I'm not at one hundred percent quite yet, but I'll be there within the week."   
  
Dixon sighed. "I'm trying to tell you gently, Your leg isn't well enough for me to willingly send you into the field. Syd, that if you return to work here, you'll have a desk job. Agent Conway has dived in pretty deep with our current operation. I can't pull her out. Which means I can't put you back in."   
  
"I am not sitting at a desk. I won't do it," Sydney said vehemently.   
  
"I know. Which is why I think it is a good idea for you to seize the opportunity to leave the agency for a while. Follow your dream of becoming an English professor."   
  
"Dreams change, Dixon. I don't want that anymore."   
  
"Then you'll have to be content with a desk job. As much as it pains me to tell you, the Agency doesn't have room for you on the agent roster." Dixon hated having to act like this, but he really wanted to get her out of the Agency. It seemed like the only thing it caused her was pain, and as her friend, he couldn't tolerate that much longer.  
  
"You're firing me?" Sydney asked. She was shocked that she was actually having this conversation with one of the few men she thought she could always trust and count on.   
  
"If that's what it is going to come down to. If you won't quit? Yes, I'm firing you, Sydney."   



	8. The Next Move

The three bottles of wine she had picked up on her way home were the best purchase she had made in months. She had off half of them drank before she was home an hour. It was the only thing she could think of to deal with all the thoughts racing through her brain. She had never dreamed when she returned to L.A. that she would be told the CIA didn't have room for her anymore.   
  
"Me! Sydney Bristow!" she yelled at no one as she marched around her apartment. "I'm the sole reason that they're still making progress on the whole Covenant thing. How dare they fire me?"   
  
There was a soft tap at her front door. She ran over and whipped the door open.   
  
"What are you doing here, Marshall?" she asked through squinted eyes. "Have they sent you to spy on me?"   
  
"You know they would never let me spy on people. I'm not good at it," Marshall said as he entered her home. "I heard the news and wanted to check on you."   
  
"Oh, I'm fine. Wine?" she asked.   
  
He shook his head no. Sydney shrugged and chucked the empty glass at the wall.   
  
"I always wanted to do that," she said with a laugh as she flung herself on the coach. "It's what they do in the movies. What are you doing here, Marshall?"   
  
"I came to see how you were doing," Marshall said. "And obviously you're not doing that well. Maybe I should call your father to come get you and take you back to his house."   
  
"I don't need my father," Sydney said forcefully. "What are you dong here Marshall?"   
  
"Listen, Syd. I really think you need to go to sleep. I'll stay with you tonight and I can explain what I'm doing here in the morning." Marshall stood Sydney up and gently helped her into her bedroom. She smiled at him and patted his head.   
  
"Good Marshall," she murmured before she fell asleep.   
  
"Yeah, good Marshall," he said as he shut off the light. He walked back into the front room and sat down. "What just happened?"   
  
He had intended to pop in to see Sydney really quickly and make sure she was all right. He never thought that she might actually not be all right. The Sydney he knew wouldn't have been thrown off too much by what the CIA had done to her. She would have just quickly come up with a plan to prove how much they needed her.   
  
He sighed as he lay down on the couch. Thank god Carrie was at her mother's for the night or else he didn't know what he would do to explain why he had been roped into sleeping on Sydney Bristow's couch.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Sydney woke up to an ear-splitting headache. "Too much wine," she muttered as she threw a pillow over her face. She told herself that drinking might not have been the best solution to her problem as her ears keep buzzing in pain. Suddenly the last few events of the previous night came into focus in her mind. "Marshall?" she called as loud as she could manage with her headache.   
  
"I'm right here, Syd," Marshall called from the kitchen. Within seconds he was by her side with a yellow greenish brownish looking drink.   
  
"What is that?" she asked as she peeked from underneath her pillow.   
  
"This is a special Flinkman recipe. Guaranteed to cure hangovers and mild arthritic pain."   
  
Sydney grabbed the glass and sipped it hesitantly. She smiled at her friend who looked quite scared of what her reaction may be. "Looks like crap, but it doesn't taste that bad. Thank you, Marshall." She sat up and motioned for him to sit next to her. "So, I think I'm sober enough for you to explain your visit last night."   
  
"I was worried that the whole being fired thing wasn't sitting well with you."   
  
"Which is obviously wasn't," she said with a laugh.   
  
"And I wanted to let you know that the CIA took Eric Weiss into custody for questioning. They're acting on the intel you gave them yesterday. It looks like you were right about him."   
  
"Of course I was right. When am I wrong?"   
  
Marshall smiled at her in admiration. "Never."   
  
The two sat in silence while Sydney finished her drink. She motioned for Marshall to stay put as she grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower.   
  
When she returned a few minutes later, she saw that Marshall was still sitting on her bed but now he was obviously fidgeting. "What's the matter?" she asked.   
  
"Well, I was wondering what you were going to do now that you're no longer with the CIA." Marshall pulled some papers out of his back pocket. "I picked you up some information. There are a few openings in the National Security Council or the FBI. I was hoping you would take a look at that. You might even find a job like Lauren's and then you'll still be working with the CIA."   
  
Sydney smiled at him. She knew he was trying so hard to keep her future looking optimistic. "Don't worry about me, Marshall. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know I'll be okay."   
  
He smiled at her and then suddenly paled. "Carrie's going to kill me!" he yelled. "I was supposed to be at work five minutes ago. She'll worry herself half to death."   
  
"Go ahead, Marshall."   
  
He smiled at her. "You know my number, Syd. Feel free to call me if you need anything."   
  
Sydney waved at him from the front doorway as she watched him bumble his way to the car. "I doubt Carrie will be that worried about you, Marshall," Sydney said to herself with a laugh. She shut the door, silently thanking him for cheering her up just a little bit.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
For hours after Marshall left, Sydney tried to weigh her options. She knew that it would be quite easy to follow his suggestion and get another job with a different US agency. But for some reason, she didn't really have a passion for any job except the one she had just been promptly dismissed from. So, that eliminated over half of her options.   
  
She briefly thought about getting in touch with her mother. But she knew that route would never lead to anything productive. If her mother's organization were as dangerous as Irina always made it out to be, her mother would never dream of giving her a job.   
  
A job as an English professor wasn't completely horrendous. But it wasn't her dream anymore. It hadn't been since she realized that her mother wasn't really an English professor but a KGB spy. Changes like that really tended to kill one's dreams.   
  
Asking her father for help was an option but not really one she wanted to take. Her father would tell her to leave the CIA life behind and just move on. To push it all in her past. She couldn't do that. The work she had done with the CIA was one of the few things she could count on.   
  
"Well, there is Sark..." she trailed off as she realized what she was suggesting to herself. "No. There's no way I can even consider that option. It's crazy."   
  
She shook her head and tried to get back to the train of thought she had been on. But her mind kept coming back to idea of approaching Sark.   
  
"There's no common sense to it," she murmured to herself as she watched the sun set outside her bedroom window. "Everyone in my life would be so mad when they found out I was working with Sark."   
  
She stopped as she suddenly realized something. Most of the people that had previously been in her life were probably going to have little or no contact with her anymore. She wasn't a member of the CIA so they would probably choose to keep her out of their life for everyone's protection.   
  
For the next hour she debated all the pros and cons of becoming involved with Sark professionally. True, she would never really be able to trust him. But he hadn't let her down yet. Everything he ever promised her, he came through with. He was a man of his word.   
  
But the man he was happened to be the kind that wouldn't hesitate to kill you if you got in his way. Which wasn't really a positive thing. She had a feeling that he wouldn't ever really harm her. However, he was pretty good at putting on an act. For all she knew, the Sark that she had spent the last couple months with was all just another one of his aliases.   
  
"This is the only option I have," she admitted to herself. "I have to take it. But it's not going to be as easy as calling him up. The CIA doesn't think I'm field ready. I have to prove that notion wrong if I'm ever going to get him to agree to this."   
  
Sighing, she picked up her cell phone and made two calls. She had set the wheels in motion, and now she was fairly sure there was no way of stopping what she had started. It was almost nice to know she couldn't back out of it.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Jack Bristow knocked on his daughter's front door the next morning. He had received the voicemail she left on his phone only an hour earlier, having just returned from a mission in Atlanta. She had sounded almost frantic which didn't surprise him. He couldn't believe that Marcus Dixon had actually told Sydney the CIA didn't have room for her on the active agent roster. It was almost preposterous.   
  
Sydney opened the door with her usual polite smile.   
  
"It's nice to see that you're not too upset with the situation that Dixon put you in," Jack commented as he took off his coat.   
  
"You should have seen me last night, Dad. I was a drunken mess. But I weighed out my options today. And the outlook seems pretty good." She led her father into the kitchen.   
  
"What did you decide to do?" he asked as he took the offered cup of coffee.   
  
"I'm going to go to work with Sark."   
  
Jack was proud of the fact that he didn't spit his coffee out in surprise. "You are not going to work with that monster."   
  
"Hear me out, Dad. I'm going to work with Sark to take down the Covenant. It's common knowledge now that is his current objective. So I won't be doing anything morally compromising. I don't think I could work with any other organization as every one I know is working on taking down the Covenant. Working with you or Mom on the sly isn't even an option. It would be too dangerous for you and for me. I can't freelance myself out. That would just be ridiculous. So working with Sark is the best option I have."   
  
"That idea is the only thing ridiculous I hear in your explanation. The man is on the FBI's Most Wanted List."   
  
"Which I seem to recall has been a place that both you and my mother have found yourselves throughout the years."   
  
"Let's not drum up your mother and my past indiscretions. This is about you, Sydney."   
  
"I'm going to work with Sark, Dad. You can't convince me otherwise. I just thought you would want to know. I don't intend to disappear off the face of the earth. Although you can't let the CIA know where I'm going. They'll never trust me again if they find out. Though they were the ones that pushed me into this whole thing."   
  
"Agreed," Jack said. "What happens if you do work with Sark and the Covenant is destroyed? Will you just shift over to helping him on his other agendas?"   
  
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."   
  
"And what makes you so sure that Sark will be willing to accept your help?" Jack asked.   
  
"Because he knows how good I am. Something that I think the CIA has forgotten. He knows how good I am in the field and he now knows my skills as an analyst. Seems to me that he would have to be stupid to refuse the offer I'm going to give him."   
  
"What offer are you going to give him?"   
  
"I haven't really decided yet. I was hoping you might help me figure that out."   
  
Jack's cell phone began to ring. Sydney motioned for him to answer it and sat by herself in the kitchen while he yelled at whomever had called him for a few minutes. When he returned to the kitchen, she knew what he was going to say before he even looked at her.   
  
"You have to go into work. It's all right. I've figured out this much on my own. I can figure out the rest." She stood up and followed him back into the front room. She stuck her hands in her pockets and smiled at him. "This is probably it, Dad."   
  
"What do you mean?" he asked as he slid his coat back on.   
  
"I don't think I'll be spending another night in this house. Now that I've decided on a plan of action, I'm going to have to get working on it as soon as possible. Which means that I'm going to have to get to England as soon as possible." Sydney hoped that her father couldn't pick out the small lie she was telling him.   
  
"Give me a call whenever you can. I want to be informed of everything that's going on. I'll keep it to myself unless it's a matter of your safety."   
  
Sydney nodded and hugged her father. It was painfully obvious that he really cared about her, but she knew that there was no way she could stay as much in contact with him as he wished. It just wouldn't work.   
  
She only had to wait ten minutes before there was another knock on her door. Smiling knowingly, she opened the door to a rather bewildered looking Marshall who was holding a box.   
  
"That was the most bizarre phone call I've ever gotten, Syd. And believe me. I've gotten some weird ones."   
  
Sydney laughed and offered a seat to Marshall. He threw the box he was holding onto the coffee table and relaxed back onto the couch. She sat down next to him and began to sift through the box, finally lifting out a stack of papers.   
  
"So what is all this stuff for?" he asked her. "You owe me an explanation considering I just stole CIA property for you. Why are you so intrigued with Sark's current position?"   
  
"I wish I could tell you, Marshall. I really do. I mean, you've been so great, getting all this stuff without any explanation and all. But I can't. It's for your own good, more so than mine. You could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out you had any prior knowledge of what I'm about to do."   
  
"Sounds dangerous. Maybe you should rethink whatever you came up with. It sounds way too reckless, and I was here two nights ago. I saw Reckless Sydney and it wasn't a fun sight."   
  
Sydney laughed. "Trust me, Marshall. What I'm doing may be dangerous and reckless, but I have complete control over it. You know me. I can handle anything."   
  
"That's true. Except maybe wine. You might not be able to handle wine."   
  
Sydney smacked him on the arm. "Very funny, Mr. Flinkman." Sighing she stood up. "I hate to do this to you. I have to kick you out now. I have a lot of preparations that need to be made, none that you can be present for."   
  
She pulled Marshall into a quick hug. "You've been a real friend to me. Always. Through everything. Don't think I don't know that."   
  
Marshall blushed. He opened the door and stepped out onto the front stoop. "When will I see you again?" he asked.   
  
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Don't worry about me. I'm a tough girl. I can take care of myself. I'll be fine. Besides, I think you'll figure out what I'm up to rather quickly once I get it going. I'll pop up."   
  
"You're scaring me slightly."   
  
"I'm sorry for that, Marshall. To be honest, I'll probably scare you a lot more in the days to come. I'm going to have to do some things that you wouldn't expect me to do."   
  
"Maybe I shouldn't be leaving you alone," he said as he made a move to step back into the house.   
  
Sydney blocked his path. "I'll be fine. Please just leave before I change my mind and send all this stuff back with you."   
  
"Good luck, Syd."   
  
"Thank you," she said as she watched one of her last friends walked down the front sidewalk, get into his car, and drive away.   
  
She was fully aware what she was about to do would alienate her from him and everyone else she had ever been close to, with the exception of her father. It was a price she had to pay to keep herself doing the very thing she had come to love so much.   
  
"Once a spy, always a spy," she whispered to herself as she shut the door.   



	9. Renewing a Partnership

Sydney could practically kiss Marshall when she found the wig in the box that he had picked out for her. It was her absolute favorite red wig. She hadn't seen it since the mission she had gone on to get her father released from prison. That was right when she had returned to her normal life and realized two years were conveniently missing. It seemed so long ago.   
  
She set the wig aside gently and picked up the stack of papers she had first extracted from the box. Rifling through them quickly, she realized that Sark was in the last place she would have guessed. If it were up to her, she would have placed him still in London, doing the work that needed to be done through the telephone. Instead it appeared he had settled into a flat above a rather seedy bar in Havana.   
  
The rest of the papers detailed all the information Marshall could acquire on Sark's current objective. It appeared like there was a critical piece to taking down the Covenant right there in Cuba. There was a corporation headed by one of the major players in the Covenant which owned a casino in the swarming mass of downtown Havana. There was going to be a crucial exchange of information that very night.   
  
"No time's better than the present," she decided. It was reassuring that all she had to do was steal a computer disk. That was turning out to be her specialty. "Practice makes perfect," she said with a laugh as she stood up to start searching her closet for acceptable gambling clothing and begin the packing process.   
  
She couldn't help but worry in the back of her head that Sark wouldn't go for her proposal. Everything she was concocting depended on the one man she felt she couldn't really trust completely. At least professionally.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
"And how do you find Havana today?" the cabbie asked Sydney as she slid into the backseat.   
  
"Really, really icky," she said, playing up the dumb young girl angle. She didn't want anyone to connect her with the alias she was planning on using later that night. Therefore, she was transformed into the dumb American.   
  
"So sorry," the driver said turning his attention back to driving. "Where we off to?"   
  
"The Llanero Casino." Sydney purposefully stumbled over the words. "My friends say it's the place to be in Havana."   
  
When the cabbie didn't respond, Sydney looked down at the magazine she had bought in the airport. It was some Spanish entertainment publication. Nothing she was too interested in. But the cabbie wouldn't know that. She had discreetly slid the basic outline of Sark's operation in between each of the pages.   
  
"Time to study," she thought to herself. Looking around, she figured she had plenty of time since the streets appeared to be grid locked. And she had always thought no one had a car in Cuba anymore.   
  
The mission Sark had given to himself seemed like an easy one. He would just have to conveniently bump into the table when the exchange was being made. A swift switch of the disk with a blank one, and the mission was complete.   
  
However, Sydney knew something that he didn't. The Covenant tended to keep themselves pretty well guarded when it came to these disk exchanges. And unless Sark lucked out and the majority of the guards weren't into women, he didn't have the necessary assets to get the job done. At least her secret weapon to distracting the guards had always been flirting. He was as exceptional in that regard as she was, but unless he could turn himself into a woman, she really didn't think it would be effective.   
  
Sydney decided this probably hadn't occurred to him so he would be waiting in the bar area for the proper time to make his move. Which is why she decided she had to get the disk before the exchange came close to happening.   
  
The hard part was getting the disk without the Covenant or Sark discovering her presence. If either one saw her, she was in a lot more trouble than she had ever bargained for. And she wasn't really looking forward to having a confrontation with Sark. Not when she was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on with regards to her heart.   
  
"We're here, lady," the cabbie said.   
  
She smiled at him and fumbled through her purse, pretending like she didn't really understand the value of currency. Eventually, she handed him a bill she knew was way to large and, in an awful attempt at Spanish, told him to keep the change.   
  
The Casino was as magnificent as the surveillance pictures she had seen of it throughout the years. This locale was an extremely effective location for the Covenant to make their exchanges. No agent had ever effectively stopped a transfer here. No agent even came close.   
  
Sydney found the first bathroom in sight and raced in. According to the calculations she had made on the plane, she had about one hour to get the disc and get ready to confront Sark. Her life had always been extraordinarily fast paced, but it was getting close to ridiculous.   
  
After slipping off the t-shirt and jeans she had been wearing, she extracted a black harness/vest from the duffel bag she had brought with her on the flight and slid it on over the black catsuit that was underneath her normal clothing. She quickly snapped in a few guns.   
  
This particular duffel bag was another one of those precious gifts from Marshall that he had enough common sense to include. It had a specific material lining the whole thing that kept any form of X-ray or scanning device from reading what was in the bag. Instead, a small computer projected the images of a normal bag scan to the surveillance equipment. It was a useful tool when the objective called for gun smuggling into Cuba.   
  
Sydney stashed the bag on top of the ceiling tiles of the bathroom and located the vent she had picked out from the floor plans Marshall had also provided her with.   
  
"There's no turning back now," she muttered. Sighing, she hefted herself up into the air vent and prepared to start a new chapter in her life.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Ten minutes later, Sydney found herself hoping out of the vent and right on top of a rather expensive looking desk. She almost wanted to groan at how predictable this situation was. She really thought by now the bad guys would get an up to par security systems for not only the windows and doors but also the ventilation system.   
  
Hearing a noise at the door, she scurried of the desk and pressed herself again the wall next to the door. She quietly drew the gun that was loaded with tranquilizers. Killing people was not on her agenda for the night if she could help it.   
  
A pair of the typical massive, bulky henchmen came into the room arguing. It seems that the first one had sworn he heard a bang from this room, but the other thought that was impossible since they hadn't taken their eyes of the door all right.   
  
"This first guy is right," Syd said as she swiftly shot two darts into each of the men. They didn't even have time to mutter a 'huh'.   
  
She stepped over their collapsed bodies and sat down in the chair in front of the computer terminal on the desk. Trying to remember the little lessons she had gotten from her college roommate in hacking, she went to work on breaking the code to the system and surfing her way through all the junk.   
  
It only took her three tries before the screen beeped, welcoming her. She took out a blank disk from one of the pockets of her harness and popped it into the computer. To satisfy her curiosity, she scanned a few of the pages.   
  
"This is a list of all of the Covenant's operatives and their profiles," she muttered in amazement. Now she understood why Sark thought this information was so important. With it, he could take down the whole Covenant in half the time he had first proposed to her. She pressed a few buttons and saw a small box pop up on the screen stating that the computer was preparing to copy.   
  
Knowing what was about to be stored on the disk, Sydney also realized why the Covenant thought retrieving this information was so important. She didn't know how this third party had received information on the Covenant's entire list of operatives, but that wasn't the kind of information you wanted in anyone's hands but your own.   
  
Once the computer was copying the Covenant's intended target to the disk, Sydney crouched down underneath the desk. She had learned that this process usually took a few minutes and it was best to stay as far out of sight as possible. The less suspicious this whole thing looked, the easier it would be for her to make a safe escape.   
  
She heard the bing marking the completion of the copying process. Standing up slowly, she turned to get the disk out of the computer drive and found herself face to face with a rather menacingly looking knife.   
  
The woman holding the knife smirked at her. "What do you think you're doing down there?"   
  
"Well, I was just taking a little nap before I destroy this casino from the inside out," she answered somberly. No waiting for a reaction from the woman with the knife, Sydney kicked her feet out from under her. Then, she expertly bashed the woman's wrist into the side of the desk until she released her hold on the knife.   
  
"But it looks like I'm going to have to take care of you before the fun can begin." The woman just continued to smirk at her. "Would you wipe that damn smirk off your face? I'm about to kick your ass. That's not something to smile about."   
  
"My partner will be here within sixty seconds. There's no way you can escape," the woman said from above where Sydney's forearm was choking her.   
  
"My task here is done. And it's not going to take me that long to put you out of commission."   
  
Sydney backed off slightly and allowed the woman to stand up. A quick punch to the stomach sent the woman back down to her familiar position on the ground. Sydney felt for her tranquilizer gun and realized that she had left it by the doorway.   
  
This caused a slight break in her concentration which the woman seized to flip Sydney over onto her back. A few punches to the head completely messed up what was left of concentration for Sydney.   
  
"Looks like you may have needed more than the minute I gave you," the woman hissed in her ear.   
  
Sydney felt around and finally got a grip on the discarded knife. "Not really," she said mildly and plunged the knife into her chest. She pushed the limp body off of hers and stood up. Typing a few commands into the computer, she heard the satisfying sound of the whole system erasing itself and then crashing.   
  
After placing the disk safely back in her harness and standing on top of the desk, she looked down at the woman's corpse. "You weren't supposed to die. I'm sorry." With that, she lifted herself back up into the air vent.   
  
When the woman's partner arrived, he had no idea what had happened. There were two unconscious bodies and his partner was dead, but there were no other signs of forced entry or the fact that anything was touched.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Checking quickly that no one was within sight, Sydney smoothly lowered herself back down on the bathroom floor. She brought her duffle bag down with her and pulled out the outfit she had compiled to change into. It was important to wow Sark with both her physical looks and her usefulness as a spy tonight.   
  
He needed to realize just how great an asset she really was.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
The main lounge had music bouncing off its walls and rather tasteful yet scantily clad dancers dancing on stage. It was your typical casino, filled with pretty woman who happened to be gold diggers and overweight old men who happened to be rich. Trying to remain inconspicuous, Sydney kept to the walls and scanned the room for any signs of Sark.   
  
She spotted him at the main bar and was pleased to see that he was staring intently at the table where the exchange was going to be made. The woman standing next to him didn't seem so keen on the fact that he cared more about the table than her flirting. It seemed as if the rather slutty looking woman was doing her best to flirt with Sark.   
  
"I don't blame her," Sydney muttered to herself. Sark was dressed in one of his trademark suits that were obviously tailored to fit him and only him so perfectly. Although the woman looked as if she was ready to stand on a street corner, Sydney couldn't fault her for wanting to get Sark's attention. "Too bad he's an evil spy, lady."   
  
Sydney tried to put Sark out of her mind temporarily and concentrate on the task in front of her. Just to be on the safe side, she popped open her purse to check that the disk was still in there. If this were an ideal situation, she would have stored the disk on her person. But alas the dress she had picked out didn't really have much room to hide anything on.   
  
Laughing, she remembered her train of thought when she selected this dress out of her closet. She had wanted a dress that was fairly revealing without drawing too much attention. Sark's head needed to be on her rather than on the pros and cons of the proposition she planned on making.   
  
She had quickly narrowed her dress selection down to two and finally chose the black. She figured that Sark was more of a classy kind of guy. So it was a small black dress instead of a rather sexy red number she had bought shortly before she got "kidnapped" for two years. It was best that she left that dress in storage, anyway, since it would only reminded her of the time she spent with Vaughn. She had bought the dress with him specifically in mind.   
  
Back in the present time, Sydney smoothed her dress down slightly and prepared to work her way to where Sark was standing sipping lightly on a glass of wine. She worked her way across the lounge floor as she checked her wig was still in place and slipped a pair of sunglasses onto her eyes. It was imperative that she was as close to Sark as possible.   
  
The whole time Sydney had been in the lounge she hadn't seen Sark say one word to the woman next to him so she wasn't surprised to see her walk away from the bar in defeat. She knew from experience that Sark was a hard person to crack, and that floozy definitely didn't have what it takes. A smug smile formed slightly on her face at the thought that she may be the one person she was aware of who could ever get Sark to drop everything and notice her.   
  
Shrugging that thought out of her head, Sydney slipped into the hole at the bar vacated by the trashy woman and gave Sark a smile. He didn't pay her any mind.   
  
"Someone's concentrating," she thought to herself.   
  
She felt a tap on her left shoulder and turned to see a rather slimy looking man in a suit. "Yes?" she asked in a slight Brooklyn accent.   
  
"I want to buy you a drink and then take you up to my room," the disgusting man said.   
  
"We all have fantasies, buddy." She turned her attention back to the bartender in front of her and ordered a Cosmopolitan.   
  
"Mine's going to come true," the man said as he grabbed her arm.   
  
Sydney cursed to herself. If she couldn't get this man to stop immediately, he was going to single handedly ruin all the planning and work she had done in the past twenty-four hours. Sark would realize that she was standing next to him, and he'd be so furious there was no way he'd listen to her proposal.   
  
"Listen. Where I come from, the guys who hit on me take the rejection like men, if you know what I mean. So just buzz off and find someone else to drunkenly hit on."   
  
The man tightened his hold on her arm. "Where I come from, hookers do what they're told."   
  
Sydney was about to ruin the whole thing and take this man down when she heard a familiar British voice intercede.   
  
"Excuse me. I hate to butt in, but I thought I'd point out that a lady dressed like that is not a hooker. Where I come from, we call them classy. So if I were you, I would just take your beer and move on to the next target like the lady suggested."   
  
The man took one look at the menacing glare coming from both Sark and Sydney, held up his hands, and backed away.   
  
"Thank you," Sydney said to her rescuer. Any second now, she expected him to tell her the ruse was up.   
  
"Not a problem. I'm always there for a damsel in distress." Sark set his wineglass down onto the bar and turned away from her. "Now I hope you forgive my rudeness, but I have a matter that needs my attention."   
  
Sydney almost wanted to laugh. Her thrown together disguise had actually fooled Sark. He obviously didn't realize it was her that he had just saved. She filed it away as another thing on a mile long list to thank Marshall about.   
  
Her reverie was interrupted as she saw the two men Marshall had pinpointed as the targets for the exchange entered the lounge laughing and took a seat at their vacant table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sark perk up slightly.   
  
The serene scene quickly ended as the man Sydney assumed was the Covenant representative started to scream and grabbed his companion forcefully. She could only presume that he had found out the system had been erased a little while earlier and there was no disk to exchange.   
  
Sark showed no reaction to the fight that was going on and the fact that the Covenant representative had just violently hauled his companion out of the lounge. Sydney knew his mind was reeling with questions, though. His whole operation depended heavily on intercepting the disk.   
  
A small ring went off next to her, and she saw Sark reach into his pocket and pull out his cell phone.   
  
"Tell me something good, Mason," he said into the phone. After a minute, she heard him mutter "shit" and hang up the phone. He slowly began to move his finger around the rim of his wineglass. In her time with him, Sydney had come to learn this was one of the small gestures he did to help calm himself down when he was frustrated or angry.   
  
Seizing the moment, Sydney rested her hand gently on the hand that was touching the glass. "Something frustrating you?" she asked, keeping up with the Brooklyn accent.   
  
"Business deals gone wrong."   
  
"Maybe I can help you feel better," she said suggestively. Now she really did sound like the hooker that man had mistaken her for earlier.   
  
"I don't have time for that, I'm afraid. Although you are a very tempting woman."   
  
"You have a lady in your life," Sydney said. She figured if he was dumb enough not to recognize her, she might as well pump him for information. A good spy never ruins a golden opportunity when it presents itself.   
  
"Yes and no," Sark said. "But I'm not going to discuss that with you. I'm sorry."   
  
He made a move to leave the bar. Sydney stopped him by lightly grasping his arm. "Don't go. I think I have something you want."   
  
Sark turned to her with an exasperated look on his face. "Listen. I told you I wasn't interested."   
  
"And I'm not offering my body," she hissed as she pulled her sunglasses off and threw them onto the bar. Digging into her purse while avoiding direct eye contact, she extracted the disk that Sark so desperately desired. Smiling at him, she dropped her Brooklyn accent. "This is what I'm offering, Sark."   
  
Sark looked at her in confusion. "Sydney? What the hell are you doing here? And dressed like that?"   
  
"We'll get to that later. For now, I expect a thank you for this." She wagged the disk in front of his face. He made a grab for it, but she pulled it back out of his grasp. "Not so fast."   
  
"That can't be what I think it is. My associate on the phone informed me that the system's been wiped so there's no way you could have gotten a copy of the identities of all the Covenant operatives. No way." He paused and squinted his eyes at her. "Unless..."   
  
"Unless what?" she asked while still wiggling the disk in front of him but slightly out of reach.   
  
"It's impossible. No agent has ever stopped an exchange in this casino. You're good, Agent Bristow, but you're not that good."   
  
"No, you're right, Sark," she said with a smirk. "I'm better."   
  
Sark smiled at her as he grabbed her arm and led her away from the bar. "Perhaps we should take this to a more private location."   
  
Sydney nodded, slide the disk back into her purse, and let him lead her to the elevators. They entered the first one to open its doors, and Sark pressed the 51st button. He inserted a key into a small hole at the bottom of the keypad and gave it a complete turn before putting it back into his pocket.   
  
"The penthouse?" she asked, obviously impressed.   
  
"You know I like to travel in style. Admittingly, it wasn't the stealthiest move on my part. But I figured after months of being stuck babysitting you, I deserved a little luxury."   
  
Sydney stuck her tongue out at him. They both retreated into a comfortable silence. She couldn't help but find herself studying him out of the corner of her eyes. He didn't look at all put out by the fact that she was holding the key to his success. Like always, he was the picture of calm. It was quite annoying.   
  
The elevator doors opened straight into the penthouse. Sark led her over to one of the couches and pushed her down.   
  
"So, where were we, Agent Bristow?" he asked as he sat down next to her.   
  
"You were about to congratulate me for doing the one thing that no other agent, including yourself, has." She took the disk back out of her purse and set it down on the table.   
  
"You're not afraid I'm just going to take that and kick you out of this suite."   
  
"I know you enough to know that, number one, you have more manners than that, and number two, you still want to know why I'm doing all this."   
  
"Touche." He smiled at her. "So you stole the disk, huh?"   
  
"I did the one thing that no agent has ever tried. I made a disk myself hours before the exchange was going to be held. I erased the system behind me to insure that I had the only copy of the target. It wasn't that hard a scheme to dream up."   
  
"And a fabulous mind like yours didn't have trouble dreaming it up, I'm sure. Especially with the resources of the CIA."   
  
"No trouble what so ever. Though I'm happy to say I did it without the resources of the CIA. Told you I was good. You see, the CIA and I have parted ways. So no extra help there. I'm a free agent." Sydney paused to gauge Sark's reaction to this turn of events. She was surprised to see no reaction at all on his face at all. Damn him and his constant calmness. "Are you paying attention to any work I'm saying, Sark?" she hissed.   
  
"I'm sorry, Sydney. But that dress you're wearing is incredibly distracting. I'll try to concentrate, but I may start dreaming about getting you out of it again. For that, I apologize in advance."   
  
She chuckled and shook her head at him. "I'm glad to see you appreciate my dress selection. What did you call it... classy, I think."   
  
"It's incredibly classy. And sexy at the same." Sark kept smiling at Sydney and staring her in the eyes.   
  
"Last time we were together, I distinctly remember you wanted to me to keep my clothes on rather badly. What's changed?" Sydney just kept eye contact with him, waiting for the words she had said earlier to come out of his subconscious and sink in fully. Either that or an explanation about why he had changed his demeanor towards her so much since last they met. She only had to wait ten seconds.   
  
"That's a explanation for another time," he said with his trademark smirk. Sydney almost laughed as she saw the smirk fade and his face blanch. "Did you just say that you are not working for the CIA anymore, Agent Bristow?"   
  
"Just call me a freelance spy. And therefore, you shouldn't call me Agent Bristow anymore. Bristow will be just fine. Thank you."   
  
"I told you before. I can't change it. Besides, Agent Bristow just roles off the tongue better."   
  
She grabbed the disk and held it out in front of him. "I have a proposition for you."   
  
"An exchange?" he asked.   
  
"Yes. The disk in exchange for a job."   
  
His mouth dropped open in surprise. "A job? You want me to give you a job? I've been begging you to work with me for years. The minute I give up trying to coerce you into it, you suddenly want to. You are such a woman, Agent Bristow."   
  
"Too much of a woman for you, that's for sure," she whispered. "What do you say?"   
  
"Let me get this clear. You want me to give you a job in my organization. In exchange for that, you're willing to give me the disk with the identities of all the Covenant's agents on it and the pleasure of being in your company every day from now on." He smirked at her. "That hardly seems fair, Sydney."   
  
"It's to your advantage, though." She tried her best to keep the nervousness out of her voice. There was still an underlying fear that he wouldn't accept the proposition. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't. He was her best, and last, option.   
  
Of course, Sark could tell she was nervous. It was apparent. As much as he liked seeing this uncharacteristic lapse in confidence, he really didn't want to drag out her suffering. Which was a strange new development for him. "I want to make something perfectly clear."   
  
"You don't love me, right?" Sydney said rolling her eyes.   
  
"That wasn't what I was going to say, but, yeah, I'm still not in love with you."   
  
"But you want me. Your interest in my choice of dress is proof of that." Sydney threw her arms up in victory.   
  
He laughed. "Anyone would be a fool to deny that you're a very easy woman to desire. However, the point I wanted to make is that this deal is extremely one sided. Which I don't like one bit. It has to be fair. Otherwise I won't even consider it."   
  
"That's a load of bullshit and you know it. But what are you suggesting?" Sydney really had no idea where he was gong with this train of thought.   
  
"I don't want you to work for me."   
  
"You don't want me to work for you," she repeated incredulously.   
  
"You are way above the level of just being my employee. I want you to be my partner in this, Sydney."   
  
"Partners?" She stared at him in disbelief. "You want me to be your equal?"   
  
"You always were my equal in this world, Sydney. Let's just make it official." He took the disk from her. "Anyway, I have a lot of analysis work on this disk that I need you to do. And then there are countless missions that I want you to accompany me on to take down the Covenant." Sark held out his hand to her.   
  
Sydney smiled at him and shook it. "So, can I crash here for the night, partner?" she asked.   
  
"There's a spare bedroom right over there," Sark said pointing over her shoulder. "We'll discuss the specifics of this partnership in the morning, I guess." He stared at her in amazement. "I can't believe you were the one to suggest this."   
  
She also couldn't believe she was actually going into a partnership with Sark, the most evil agent in the book. It was slightly disconcerting. As was the fact that he was still staring at her with the strangest look on his face. "What?" she asked.   
  
"Well, it's kind of sad, and I hate to bring it up," he started.   
  
"Spit it out. You've never been short of words in the whole time I've known you."   
  
"Last time we saw one another, I rejected you. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that Sydney. But you were acting so strangely then."   
  
"You called me on it, and you were right. I was trying to be the kind of woman I thought you wanted." She realized that he still had that perplexing look on his face. "And now? How am I acting now?"   
  
"Well, I don't think I'd hesitate to sleep with you now. You're acting like the Sydney Bristow I always imagined taking into my bed." He began to laugh and continued laughing as he stood up. "Too bad we're business partners now."   
  
She just glared at him as he retreated to his bedroom.   
  
In the back of her mind, she was scolding herself for putting herself into another hopeless love situation. She figured by now she would have learned her lesson.   
  
But, no, here she was. Slowly getting more and more unwelcome feelings towards the one man she knew she should never want and she couldn't possibly have.   
  
She continued to scold her war-scarred heart as she settled in to the spare bedroom and the idea of her newly formed partnership with Sark.   



	10. Progress

"Someone's watching me," Sydney thought to herself as she slowly woke up the next morning. She wasn't surprised to find Sark standing in the doorway of her bedroom staring at her position on the bed. "What do you want?" she mumbled.   
  
"We need to define a few things, Sydney," he said seriously. He entered the room and took a seat on the bed.   
  
"I thought we did all the defining last night," she said as she threw a pillow over her head.   
  
"I never knew you to be so grumpy in the morning." Sark pried the pillow off her head and out of her hands. "Seriously. We need to talk about us."   
  
"What us? There is no us. You've made that clear on multiple occasions. So there's no need for you to disturb my sleep cycle to go over that again."   
  
"I may have tried to define it, but you never did."   
  
"I still have completely uncharacteristic feelings for you every once in a while. But I think I'm getting better."   
  
"You're scrunching your eye again. Don't lie to me. For the first time ever, we actually need to have an honest conversation."   
  
"We've had honest conversations many times before. You remember every time I told you I wanted to kill you? I was being pretty damn honest." When Sark didn't saw anything in return, she figured that he wasn't going to let her try to veer their conversation over to a more emotionally safe topic. "Listen. I told you before that I thought I was falling in love with you. Against my will, that's for sure. But all the same, it's still falling in love. I haven't worked that all out yet."   
  
"As my business partner, we couldn't have the same relationship we had that last week when you stayed with me in London. It's not good for business."   
  
"Really? I've never known you to be a man who liked to keep business and pleasure separately. Which is one of the benefits of our little tryst. I'm both business and pleasure."   
  
"Yes, you are. But I can't get involved with you, Sydney. I can't. If I did, you would just end up getting hurt."   
  
"Don't pull the I hurt everyone I touch angle on me. You're talking to the queen of that angle. I'd like you to name one person that I didn't hurt in some way." Sydney sat up in bed as she was starting to wake up and get enraged. "I shot my mother. I almost got Vaughn killed numerous times, and then I died on him. Francie's dead. Will's in Witness Protection, as I'm sure you know. I got my father put in jail when he tried to prove I wasn't dead. I turned Marshall and Dixon's worlds upside down when I helped take down SD-6. And I turned in the one friend I had left as a traitor to the US government."   
  
"You never hurt me," Sark said quietly. "Not once."   
  
Sydney was taken aback. For the first time ever, she couldn't form words to respond to Sark.   
  
He decided to repeat himself to nail the fact home. "You never hurt me, and you probably never will. So that gives me one more hurt person than you have. Because I can guarantee that this partnership we're starting will probably end badly. The less you care for me, the easier it will be on you."   
  
"I care for you already, so that shouldn't be a factor."   
  
Sark stood up and walked to the other half of the room, preparing to leave. At the last second, he turned back to her. "I have one more question for you."   
  
"Shoot."   
  
"Is this really the place you want to be? Truly?" Sark held up his hand to keep her from answering right away. "Because from today on, I have to place all my trust in you. And I really don't want to find out somewhere down the line that you've been lying to me in an elaborate scheme to set me up to take a fall."   
  
"You know you can trust me, Sark," Sydney said as she stood up. "This is the one place I had left to go, and honestly, I think this path would still be the one I had chosen even if I had other options. Right now, there's nowhere else I can think of to be."   
  
Sark nodded and turned to leave. Sydney's voice held him back. "Can I ask you a question?"   
  
He turned to tell her she could ask him anything she wanted but didn't have time to say a word before her lips were on his. The spark between them immediately flared up, and he admitted that he had vaguely missed the feelings she stirred up in him. He had almost forgotten how natural this felt.   
  
Sydney kept the kiss light and innocent compared to the others they had shared. After a minute, she released the strong hold she had gotten on the front of his suit. She shoved him lightly so that he was standing in the hallway and grasped the door. As she shut it in his face, she stated, "Don't tell me that you don't feel anything for me."   
  
Sark just stared at the door as it slammed and wondered what exactly he had just gotten into.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Sydney didn't see or hear from Sark for the rest of the day. Which was why she was so glad to hear a knock on her door around eleven o'clock that night.   
  
"Thought you'd stay mad at me forever," she said as she opened the door to someone other than Sark. "Oh! Sorry. I was expecting someone else."   
  
"I know. He sent his apologies that he couldn't keep your date tonight."   
  
'Date?!?' Sydney thought to herself. 'When did he mention a date?"   
  
The man continued. "He left this note for you at the front desk, and since you didn't come down to get it, my manager thought it would be prudent of us to deliver it to you."   
  
Sydney could feel the man's disgust of having to play messenger boy. She whipped the note of his hand and sneered "If you think you're getting a tip for that, you're dead wrong" before she shut the door in his face.   
  
She settled down on the bed and opened the note. It simply stated that Sark was taking his private jet out of Mexico at midnight and he wanted her to come with him. She almost panicked when she realized there was only an hour to pack and get to the airfield.   
  
Sighing, she looked down at the ragged sweats she was wearing. There was a voice in the back of her head nagging her to change out of them and into a rather slinky, sexy looking dress. But with the way her earlier conversation with him had gone, she doubt he would appreciate the effort she was making.   
  
"Sweats, it is," she muttered as she began to the little amount of stuff she had with her into a bag.   
  
When she arrived at the airstrip, it was practically deserted. She chuckled to herself. Mexico had always seemed like a place where there would be constant traffic at night, legal or illegal. The car Sark had left for her in front of the hotel pulled her straight up to a rather sleek looking jet.   
  
"The man travels in style," she commented lightly to the driver.   
  
"Mr. Sark is one of our classiest customers."   
  
"I'll bet," she muttered as she grabbed her bag and slid out of the car. "Thank you."   
  
Taking a deep breath, she walked the few yards to the plane and quietly boarded.   
  
Sark looked up from his laptop and greeted her. "Glad to see you got my note and could join me."   
  
Sydney scowled at him. "Next time, I expect the courtesy of a telephone call instead of just a note. It was kind of rude."   
  
"Which is exactly the kind of person I am, Sydney," Sark said, keeping his eyes glued to his laptop screen. "You should know that."   
  
"What are you working on?" she asked as she took a seat next to him on the couch.   
  
"A very interesting development in our mission provided by that wonderful little disk." He turned the laptop so that she could read what was on the screen.   
  
"Taylor Cummings? I thought he was wrapped up in the Kindred, not the Covenant."   
  
Sark wanted to laugh as he watched her scrunch up her face. "What's the matter?"   
  
"Why does my life always sound like it's straight out of a comic book?"   
  
"No, I don't think it's straight out of a comic book. I think it's more of a made for TV movie... you know my mother is a Russian spy and my boyfriend married another woman kind of thing."   
  
"Honestly, I always thought of it more as a blockbuster movie in the theaters." She turned her attention back to the information on the screen. "I take it you want me to analyze him for weaknesses."   
  
"It's one of your strong points, so I won't advise against it."   
  
"So, what's with this guy then? He's a part of the Covenant?"   
  
"Yeah. Turns out that he started out with the Covenant. He detached himself from that affiliation and formed the Kindred, as we both know. But he funded the formation of that organization with the Covenant's money. Therefore, it was my money that started the Kindred."   
  
"And why does this affect our goal of taking down the Covenant?"   
  
"Because Taylor Cummings is one of the main financial backers of the Covenant now. It seems that my 800 million can't take the Covenant as far as they want to go. We take care of Cummings, we deal the Covenant a nasty blow. After that point, they should almost self-destruct without much further effort."   
  
Sydney nodded and pulled the laptop over to herself. After a few minutes of typing, she turned to Sark. "Do you think I can get one of these for my own?"   
  
"That is yours. Do you think I would allow you such open access to my personal laptop and files?"   
  
"We're partners. You should trust me."   
  
"Give me time, Sydney. This whole situation is new to me." Sydney stared at him intently for a minute. "What?" he asked finally.   
  
"You're not just talking about trusting me with your business dealings, are you?"   
  
"I thought we were finished talking about that topic. We can't have any sort of romantic relationship if we're going to successfully bring down the Covenant. We both know that."   
  
"No, that was your theory. Mine isn't like that at all. But then again you haven't really considered anything I've said in terms of this whole state of affairs. Which isn't surprising since most of the time I only see you as an arrogantly cocky bastard. And the times I'm not I consider you a pathetic excuse for a man who would do anything to avoid feeling."   
  
"Rightfully so. I am all that and then some."   
  
"Then there are those few times where I feel I get a glimpse into who you really are, or at least who you were before this life sucked you in. Those are what keep me coming back for more emotional punishment."   
  
"You're wrong."   
  
"No, I'm not. And you're scared because of it. I guess I should have seen this coming. I'm a glutton for punishment. I seem to love torturing myself with hopeless cases of love. My heart's been broken into a million pieces so many times. But unlike you, I can't keep it locked up inside me with no room to breathe."   
  
"That's your Achilles' Heel, Sydney. You need to eliminate that emotion if you're going to stay alive while you work with me."   
  
Sydney shut the laptop and turned to give him all her attention. She wanted him to understand that what she was about to say was important. "The emotion you think I should eliminate has gotten me through some tough times as well as put me into tough situations. I've come to rely on it as the one signal that I have that I'm still alive. And right now, the emotions that let me know I'm alive are mixed up with you. So you're just going to have to forgive me when I say there's no way in hell I'm going to give that up. I'm in love with you, Sark. Accept it or not. You need to get past it."   
  
"Wow."   
  
"Sorry. I get the tendency to lecture from my father. It's a nasty genetic thing."   
  
"You can be just as scary as Jack sometimes."   
  
"I'll take that as a compliment." Sydney felt herself yawning. "I'm going to get some sleep. I got through most of my profile of Cummings if you want to take a look at it later. I don't think I can successfully finish it without making at least part of it incoherent right now. I didn't get much sleep last night. Too much uncertainty in my life."   
  
Without asking permission, she snuggled up to his side. Sark would have normally shrugged her off, but he was actually too tired to start up another argument. Sydney was exhausting him. And, somewhere, in the back of his head, a little voice was quick to admit that it wasn't such a horrible thing that she was showing concern for him.   
  
He made sure to silence that voice rather quickly. But Sydney still slept in his arms.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
The jet landed at Heathrow Airport in record time. Sark found himself unwilling to wake Sydney from her deep sleep. So he scooped her up in his arms and deposited her in the passenger seat of the BMW he had waiting for them at the airport.   
  
He did the same thing to get her into his home and into the bedroom she had spent weeks living in earlier. Originally, he hadn't intended to bring her back here, but he wasn't sure if she would appreciate any of the other houses he kept around the world. At least not in the way he realized she had come to appreciate this house that was so close to Hyde Park.   
  
For some odd reason, he found himself wanting her to be comfortable. He wasn't willing to admit that he really wanted her to stick around for as long as was possible. That was just too large a step for him to make in twenty-four hours.   
  
He flipped off the light switch and left her to sleep away some of her worries and concerns.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sydney yawned while she took in her new surroundings, or rather familiar surroundings. She couldn't believe that Sark had actually brought her back to this place which held so many memories for them. Memories that he had been adamantly denying for the past few days.

Sighing, she rolled out of bed and looked through the drawers of the dresser in the room. It wasn't surprising to see that Sark had somehow found the time to provide her with the type of clothing she preferred. She slipped out of the clothes she had worn the day before and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

The walk down to the kitchen was like riding a bike. She thought that the maze of a house would confuse her a little again like it had when she first stayed here, but it really wasn't that confusing.

"Do you always look so domestic in the morning?" she asked Sark, who happened to be sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee and looking at the morning edition.

"I'm still currently sleeping," he muttered without looking up. "Don't bother me."

"Mr. Grumpy," she said as she poured herself some coffee and sat down beside. She waited until he looked up at her before continuing. "I can respect that."

He gave her a small smirk and returned his attention to the paper. Sydney sat in silence, drinking her coffee and watching the outside world from the window next to the table. After twenty minutes of silence, Sark folded the paper and turned his attention back to his new partner.

"I'm awake. Is there something you wanted?"

"Yeah," she said seriously. She held up her cup of coffee and smiled. "But I guess I'll take a little conversation with my coffee."

"Do you want to know the mission I'm currently planning?"

Sydney grimaced. "Rule number one, no business talk before nine in the morning."

"Agreed." Sark began to shuffle through the paper again.

Sydney put her hand on the front of the paper and pushed it down onto the table. "I said no business talk. I didn't mean no talk at all."

"So what do we have to talk about that doesn't deal with business?" he asked.

"We're going to have to trust each other. So that means I might actually have to know who you are. You and I can just go on claiming we know each other so well, but I doubt that either one of us really believes that. Our business dealings have been too good to let personal information slip out to the enemy so easily. So, I suggest you and I spend some time trying to get a handle on each other."

"Okay. As long as it doesn't get too personal."

"Have you not been listening to what I've been saying? The point of this is to get personal."

"I don't do personal." Sark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms defiantly.

"I know that. But you do personal now."

"Really?"

Sydney knew that he wasn't really getting mad at her. In fact, if she guessed right, she was probably amusing him. "If this is going to work, you need to give me the benefit of the doubt that this will be good for us in the long run."

"I don't do personal, Sydney, no matter what you say."

Sydney sighed. She knew a losing battle when she heard one. "Listen. I promise to limit my personal questions to one a day. The rest of my inquiries will be about harmless matters that don't make you uncomfortable. How's that?"

"I never said personal matters made me uncomfortable."

"Bullshit," Sydney said straight to his face. "We both know they make you uncomfortable."

"True." He sighed and sat up. "I agree to your terms. Let's get this personal question out of the way for today."

"Well, I was going to let you ease into the day a little more before dropping this on you, but, okay, if you insist. I want to know if you've ever had a serious relationship with a woman."

"Yes, I have," he replied simply.  
  
"And what made it work?"

"You said only one personal question, Sydney."

"One personal discussion would have been more accurate. Sorry. Now answer my question."

"She could outthink me."

"That's it?" Sydney said, astonished at the simplicity of his answer.

"No one has ever gotten the better of me."

"I have. Numerous times."  


"I've let you believe that, sure. This woman we're talking about knew my weaknesses and played out them to get what she wanted. She knew what buttons to push. She was smart. I respected her."

"A woman that was cunning and intelligent. One who was good at what she did," Sydney said verbally recapping and trying to commit his answers to memory. "She could outsmart you easily."

"Without batting an eye."

"And respect's a big thing for you?"

"What does this have to do with our new partnership?"

"Everything, Sark. Everything." Sydney smiled at him and stood up from the table. "That's enough for today, I think. I'm going to go get changed. And then you can tell me about this mission you're planning."


	11. A Face From Sark's Past

After taking a shower and changing into a halter-top and jeans, Sydney made her way back down to the kitchen. She was taken aback to see Sark had also changed into one of his trademark suits and the morning paper had been replaced by a laptop and file folders.

"You work fast," she muttered as she took a seat next to him.

"What did you say?"

"I said so what's the mission?"

Sark took a deep breath and began. "Well, your profile on Cummings was exceptional and extremely useful. And you can be proud of that as I make it a habit to never compliment my colleagues."

  
"And you wonder why they all hate you…" Sydney mumbled to herself.

"I received intel this morning that Cummings will be taken a small vacation in Belize. Using the information you provided us, I want you and I to infiltrate where he is staying and convince him that maybe this sort of life isn't really for him."

"What are we going to do after that? We can't just bring him back here and set him up in a guest room. We don't have the proper containment facilities."

"Yes, I'm aware. I could have him shipped off to my holding cells in Caracas, but that's a lot of effort that doesn't need to be made."

"So what then?"

"This is going to be a hard part of the mission for you." Sark paused for a moment. "Listen. We're probably not going to be the only team of agents there. The intel I received wasn't very private. I'm sure that the CIA got a hold of it, too."

"They're planning on making a move, too."

"Yes. Now I know you and the CIA aren't on the greatest of terms right now, but I know you still trust them."

"I do," Sydney affirmed.

"Well, I figured we go in there, get to Taylor first, and then you just hand him over to the CIA team like it isn't that big a deal. It would be better if you showed the CIA that you were working with me now instead of them just hearing it from one of their sources. This will show that you're here of your own free will. And giving Cummings to them shouldn't be a problem. He's not our main target anyway."

"Then what is our main target?"

"Her." Sark said as he passed a file over to his partner. "She's Lina Beck, the brains behind Cummings operation. Cummings has had her by his side since he defected from the Covenant. She's the one we need."

"So, we're just supposed to take her into our custody? I thought we went over that that's just not possible in this setting."

"She'll come willingly."

"Oh! We're going to rely on your charm to woo her over," Sydney practically yelled. "No offense. But that's a little too shaky for me!"

Sark sighed. "Lina and I go back a long way."

Sydney sat waiting for more information. It didn't come. "Is that all you're going to say? We go back a long way?"

"A extremely long way," Sark replied smugly.

Sydney kicked him hard underneath the table. He glared at her in pain and shock. "What the hell was that for?"

"Just a reminder that I can kick your ass if I chose to. Being partners doesn't change that. Now explain to me about this Lina Beck."

Sark rolled his eyes as he rubbed his now bruised shin. "She's an old friend, Sydney."

"An old friend? That's the best you can do?"

"Yes, an old friend. She went to the girls' boarding school that was neighbor to mine. Even though she's a few years younger than me, she was my best friend."

"You actually had a friend at one time?" she said, feigning shock.

He glared at her again. "Anyway, I know if you and I can get to her, she'll leave the Hand and Taylor Cummings behind. And we, not the CIA, will have the integral piece to taking down the Covenant."

"Sounds like a plan," Sydney said standing up. "When do we leave?"

"In a couple hours." Sark stopped typing on his laptop to look up at Sydney. "Are you going to be all right with this? I know it won't be easy seeing your old friends and telling them you've succumbed to the dark side."

Sydney cracked a little smile. "It will be hard, that's for sure. But the CIA fired me. I know they didn't expect me to come work with you, but they had to have known that I wasn't just going to sit around waiting for them to ask me back in a few years."

Sark nodded at her in acceptance of her reasoning. "Go for a run to think it over a bit, Sydney. Let it sink in completely. Then, you and I will worry about the specifics of our aliases and this mission."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Belize is amazing," Sydney said, stepping off the plane.

"You're amazing in that dress," Sark said with a smile as he held the door to their ride open for her.

Sydney felt herself blush as she felt his eyes looking her up and down. This was the first mission in a long time where she had to dress sexy yet found herself being comfortable in the clothes. The dress that Sark had selected for her was a simple halter-top dress of a deep blue color. The skirt was flowing, ended just above her knee, and had two slits that ran him up her legs.

She was surprised to realize that the reasons she was so comfortable were all due to Sark. She had trusted him fully when he told her he was going to pick out her clothing for the mission. And she felt safe, bordering on smug, when she was with him. It was like she knew something that no one else did. That this man wouldn't let anything happen to her.

  
"Which is just a complete daydream," she thought to herself. "I doubt that he would leave me behind in a mission, but if I don't stay on his level, I doubt this partnership will go far."

Sark had softened up around her a little, but she still realized that he hadn't changed all that much.

"Are you ready for this?" Sark asked her as he pulled the car to a stop.

"Completely. Just try to keep me out of any of the CIA agents' sights for as long as you can."

Sark nodded, and they entered the lobby of one of the most prestigious hotels in the area. He weaved around the small throng of people who had taken one look at them, assumed they were extremely important people, and rushed to offer them aid. The duo entered the elevator after a lot of commotion but no sighting of the CIA.

When the elevator doors shut, Sark dropped his cool, important businessman demeanor and grasped Sydney's hand. "I know you can do this."

She smiled at him as the elevator dinged on the tenth floor. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were actually concerned for me."

They walked down the hallway looking for Room 1035 where Taylor Cummings was staying. There was a bodyguard sitting in front of the room door, which didn't really pose that much of a problem. Sydney just asked him if Mr. Cummings and Ms. Beck were inside. Before he could answer, she had knocked him out cold with a kick to the side of the head.

"I love watching you work," Sark whispered in her ear. "I'm going to go find Lina. I'm pretty sure that she isn't in there with Cummings. I'll meet you back at where I parked the Porsche."

Sydney nodded. She had figured they were going to separate at one point, but she hadn't thought it would be this early in the mission. Taken aback by her small concern of being separated from Sark, she pushed the idea out of her head and entered the hotel room.  
  
"Mr. Cummings?" she asked as she saw the man in question standing on the balcony.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get past Paolo?" Cummings hissed.

"Well, you ordered a little female companionship, didn't you?" she asked.

She could see Cummings think the situation through in his head before going along with it. "Yes, I did."

"Good," Sydney said with a smile. She slinked over to him and grabbed him by his tie. Still smiling, she flung him on the bed and climbed on top of him. "I hope this isn't too fast."

"I like a woman who takes charge."

"Good." Sydney pretended to put her hands behind her to unzip her dress. In actuality, she slid a folding knife out from the back of her dress. Never breaking character, she clicked the knife open and held it to Cummings' throat. "Then you're going to love me. Do what I say and you won't die."

Cummings nodded in agreement.

"You and I are going to take a walk down to the lobby. I have a few friends down there who want to speak with you."

"Who do you work for?" he asked.

"None of your business, seeing as you're the man with the knife to your throat." Sydney pulled him up from the bed and pushed him toward the door.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sark made his way to the other end of the hall. He hadn't wanted to tell Sydney that he had been in contact with Lina in the few hours leading up to their departure. He didn't want to tell her that Lina was waiting for him at the end of the hall. He didn't know why, but he lied to his partner.

When Lina saw him, her face lit up and she came running into his arms. Sark couldn't help but smile.

After a moment's embrace, he pulled back and wiped the tears that were falling from her eyes. "I can't believe you're crying, Leeny. Didn't I teach you better than that?"

"Shut up!" she said happily. "I haven't seen my big brother in four years. Can't I cry a little?"

"All right. You win. You can cry all you want over the joy of seeing me again."

She glared at him. "I think I'm over it. Now what weren't you telling me over the phone today?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"Don't give me that. You told me that you were coming here to take down Cummings and rescue me from his evil, slimy clutches. So, why are you here with me and not capturing him?"

"Because my partner's doing that."

"You have a partner. I don't believe it. You are the original loner. There's no way you actually found someone who can put up with your bullshit enough to be your partner."

Sark realized that he wasn't going to be able to work his way out of this discussion. "Do you remember that CIA agent I told you about? Sydney Bristow?"

"The one that made you so mad because she was better than you?"

"I never said she was better than me."

"It was implied." Lina smiled wickedly at her older brother.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sydney marched arm and arm with Cummings down ten flights of stairs and into the lobby. She kept her eyes open for any trouble, but amazing enough, she had no problems getting both of them to their destination while avoiding suspicion.

Standing on one side of the lobby, it didn't take her long to find the agents the CIA had sent.

"Of course it would have to be Vaughn and that Conway woman," she murmured.

"Problem?" Cumming asked smugly.

"I see no problem in turning you over to the CIA so that you can rot the rest of your life away in a prison cell, scum," she hissed.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the two people she least wanted to see right now. Thankfully, they didn't notice her until she was right next to them. "I have a present for you."

"Sydney?" Vaughn exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"My job. Your job," she replied simply. "Agent Conway."

"Bristow." Sydney handed Cummings over to the agent who had replaced her in the CIA.

"Syd, where have you been? Dixon has been worried about you."

"That's good to know." Sydney recognized that she sound really bitter, but she figured she had a right to be bitter. "You see, I've been searching for a new job since I got fired from my last one."

"Marshall figured you had found a job. He was so concerned for what you were going to do."

"He told you about what he did for me, didn't he?"

"You know, Marshall. He thought you were going to do something irrational that would get you killed. I have to agree with him considering you asked him to get your Sark's current position at the time. Why did you need that? You didn't decide to go after him, did you? That would be way too dangerous, Syd. Tell me you didn't."

"No, I didn't try to capture Sark." Sydney smiled at him wickedly. "I asked him to be my partner."

Vaughn didn't really know what to say to this revelation, and Sydney didn't really feel like getting into the details about the current situation with Sark, especially not in the middle of a mission. Seizing the opportunity, she tried to change the subject to a topic that she was actually interesting in hearing about. "How are things going with Weiss?"

"It's hard. He still refuses to explain to the CIA when or why he started working with the Covenant."

"And how are you doing? He was your best friend."

"I can't believe it. I mean, I never expected him to do something so stupid as join up with the people we're fighting against." Vaughn looked at Sydney intently. "But I guess you're familiar with that concept, seeing as how you're practically sleeping with the enemy."

"That was harsh," Sydney said. Inside, she was grateful that Vaughn had chosen to be harsh. She was starting to fall back into the normal comfortableness they had always had together. Well, at least they had been comfortable before Lauren and her missing two years.

Vaughn got his famous concerned look on his face and grasped her arm. "I'm sorry, Syd. I'm just concerned for you. This doesn't seem like you at all. I mean, are you all right? He didn't do anything to you to force you into this, did he?."

"It was of my own free will, Vaughn." She ripped her arm out of his hand. "And don't touch me."

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just not a part of your life anymore. You don't know who I am, and I don't want you to know who I've become."

"Sydney, you have to let me bring you back to the CIA. This isn't sane, what you're doing."

"It's the sanest thing I've done in a long time."

"Sark will not be able to keep you safe from harm."

"You don't have to worry about that, or me in fact, anymore. I know what I'm doing."

Vaughn realized this method of persuasion wasn't working and decided to switch to another tactic. "Your father would be so furious if he knew what you were up to."

"My father knows where I am. He knows who I'm with."

"Not possible. Jack's been worried sick about where you are."

"My father is a good spy. He knows how to put on an extremely convincing act. I told him where I was going. He wasn't happy, but we came to an understanding. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to meet my partner."

Vaughn grabbed Sydney's arm roughly. "I'm not letting you go to him."

"Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?" Sydney hissed. "You lost all rights to be jealous when you got married, Vaughn." She yanked herself away. "I'm sorry you had to witness this, Agent Conway. This isn't about you in any way. I sincerely hope you are doing all right with the whole Weiss situation. I know how it feels to have a boyfriend betray your confidence. Vaughn. I'm sure you'll be seeing me out in the field. I'll be the one doing your dirty work."

Sydney smirked and walked away, understanding that she may have just cut the last tie she had to her old life.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Well, Sydney's working with me now," Sark continued

"You got a CIA agent to leave her well-respected job and come work for a rake like you? I don't believe that. What blackmail do you have on her?" Lina asked, suspicious of her brother and his actions.

"None. She got hurt trying to save my life in Nice, and I gave her a place to stay while she recovered. When she went back to her government, they told her that she wasn't needed anymore and should try to live a normal life."

"That's incredibly harsh."

"With that much, I agree. She found me in Mexico City and gave me a proposition."

"Oh, I think I like this girl already."

"She reminds me of you quite a bit."

"Beautiful, intelligent, and cunning, huh?"

"Stubborn, impetuous, and a pain in my ass." He smiled lovingly at his sister. "I guess that's why I put up with her for so long."

"I know. You've been talking about this Sydney Bristow for years now." Lina stopped and gave him a weird look. "Have you slept with her yet?"

"That is a completely inappropriate question," Sark exclaimed.

"You did," she said simply.

"No, I did not."

"But you want to." She nudged him in the ribs.

"Why do I put up with you?" he said kiddingly.

Lina smiled at him and slipped her hand into his as they approached the car. "Uh-oh. Looks like you've picked up an admirer."

"That's Sydney," Sark replied.

Lina almost choked at the change in her brother's voice when he said that last statement. "He definitely wants to sleep with her," she thought smugly.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sydney felt her heart stop slightly when she saw Sark and Lina coming towards her. She hadn't expected for this Lina Beck to be so beautiful. She had pictured a young girl, sure. But she had pictured her as slightly bookish, definitely with glasses and a braid. Not a blonde bombshell that could get anything she wanted whenever she wanted it.

And she was holding Sark's hand.

Sydney tried to put on her bravest face and smiled at her partner and his old friend. As soon as they reached the car, she held out her hand to Lina. "I'm Sydney Bristow."

"So, Julian tells me."

"Julian?" Sydney said looking at Sark.

"Oh, don't tell me he's still trying to keep his first name a mystery. That game is so old."

Sark rolled his eyes and got into the car. "How did the prisoner drop-off go, Sydney?"

Sydney slid into the passenger seat. "Better than expected. Vaughn and my replacement in the CIA were the agents assigned to the mission. Vaughn and I had some harsh words."

"Are you okay?" Sark asked.

"When did you start showing concern for people?" Lena asked from the backseat. Sydney was happy to realize that Lena's British accent didn't sound quite as aloof as Sark's. 

"He's just concerned because I'm his partner and he can't have be breaking down emotionally or physically," Sydney explained. "Vaughn was actually jealous of you, Sark."

"Hmmm. I must remember that next time I'm in the position to taunt him." Sark noticed that Sydney's was rubbing her left arm. "What's wrong?"

"Oh. Vaughn grabbed my arm to try to drag me back with him to the CIA."  
  
"He hurt you?" Sark asked as his eyes narrowed.

"No. Not anymore than you have in the field of battle," she pointed out.

"You guys fight a lot?" Lina asked.

"There were some legendary battles," Sark said with a smirk in Sydney's direction.

Sydney turned to look at her. "The time In Denpassar when I had to prove to you I was a member of the Raslak Jihad. I beat you with a weapon I had never touched before."

"And then there was the time you drove an ice pick into my leg," he reminded her.

  
"I forgot about that!" Sydney explained. "We were in Siberia. He had a gun on me, and I couldn't let myself be captured. So I threw the only thing available at him. It just happened to be an ice pick."

"You were the one responsible for giving him a limp for months," Lina said, putting the two things together.

"Don't forget the time you made me dress up like a geisha and give Sloane a massage. I haven't forgiven you for that one, nor have I gotten my proper revenge."

"It was for the good of the mission, darling," Sark said with a smirk. "And I believe that your partner bashing my head into the table in Stockholm was revenge enough."

"But it wasn't me inflicting the pain," she pointed out. "That means it doesn't count. But I'd like it slide since the last time we came up against each other, if I recall, I bashed you in the head with a swinging door and took the objective of our missions."

"Gave me the world's worst headache, too," he said with a small laugh.

"You guys sound like old war veterans," Lina said. "I think I need to teach you guys how to get what you want without hurting someone."

"That was a skill I never quite grasped," Sark admitted.

"I know," Lina said with a knowing glance that didn't escape Sydney's eye.


	12. Secrets Revealed

Vaughn had been sitting at his desk in the CIA headquarters for over an hour, staring into space. He still couldn't comprehend the fact that Sydney, the image of perfection in his mind, could have done something so impetuous and thoughtless so willingly. A partnership with Sark was the last thing he expected Sydney to do.

Dixon saw Vaughn's blank look from across the floor and began to make his way over to the desk. "How are you holding up, Michael?"

"Not too well. I just can't believe Sydney would do something like this." He looked up at his boss. "I keep asking myself what could I have done to stop her from making this huge mistake."

"Don't go blaming yourself. This was no one's fault and everyone's fault. None of us really took in consideration what Sydney's wanted in the past few months. If I had, I would have known that a CIA free life isn't what she aspires for anymore."

"That dream died when she realized that her mother wasn't an English professor but a KGB spy."

"But I conveniently forgot that. So I let her go from the Agency. She had nowhere and no one to turn to." Dixon put his hand supportively on Vaughn's shoulder. "Enough of this. Did you tell Sydney how bad the situation is here?"

"No," he said as he pulled something up on his computer. "I didn't want to guilt trip her into coming back. If she knew the mess that Weiss has put us in, she would have given up anything. She likes to blame herself for things just as much as we do."

"Don't worry, Michael. I'm sure Sydney will come back to us someday. It might not be soon, but we'll be seeing her. She may be working for Sark, but she's still the Sydney we know and love inside. She would never do anything for him that would cause harm to people."

Vaughn looked at Dixon meaningfully. "I agree with that. But then I think about two days ago I would have said our Sydney would never have allied herself with a cocky bastard like Sark. However, there she is. Right by his side."

"Talking about Sydney again?" Lauren asked as she took a seat next to her husband. She placed her hand into his. "I haven't really had time to get to her know her, but I have a feeling that this whole situation is going to work out just fine."

"Thanks," Vaughn said with a weak smile.

"Why don't you two take the afternoon off?" Dixon suggested as he walked away.

"If I knew that a little of your moping was all it took to get time off, I would have made you do it sooner," Lauren joked. Seeing that it wasn't lightening her husband's mood, she tried another tactic. "Let's get out of her. This place is getting too chaotic with all the investigation into how far Weiss infiltrated our organization for the Covenant."

"I appreciate this," Vaughn said seriously as he stared into his wife's eyes intently. "I appreciate you trying to help me through this whole thing."

"Well, you've had a pretty rough few months." Lauren stood up and held her hand out to him. "Let's go forget about our crazy lives for an afternoon."

Vaughn smiled and took her hand. He would try, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to get the mental images of Sark and Sydney together to leave his mind any time soon. It was finally apparent that that woman was going to haunt his thoughts until the day he died.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"I always thought this was a nice place, Julian," Lina said as she took in Sark's home. "It's definitely better than the last one. You remember that shack you called a home in Dublin?"

"That was a very respectable place," Sark defended.

"Yeah, sure."

Sydney took the momentary lull in conversation to take her leave. "I'm going to go up to my room. I'm a little tired from the roller coast we call life."

Sark gave her a dismissive nod, and Lina waved trying to make up for his rudeness. As soon as Sydney was up the stairs and out of sight, she smacked him in the arm rather harshly.

"What the hell was that for?" he snarled.

"I thought you said she was your partner, and then you just treat her like shit most of the time. I mean, she says good night and you just glance at her briefly. I always knew you were a bastard to people who weren't me, but god, I didn't realize how bad it was."

"There are complications," he answered simply.

"Aren't there always complications when it comes to you?" Lina went into the room next to the foyer and sat down on a coach. She patted the seat next to her. As Sark sat down next to her, she continued, "Tell me about these complications."

"She thinks she's in love with me," Sark stated.

"You're right. You do have a problem." Sark smiled at his sister recognizing that he may have finally found someone who understood his point of view on this topic. The smile was wiped off his face as she continued. "Your partner is crazy. How the hell can she be in love with a person like you? You don't give anyone anything to love. The only thing you have going for you is that whole mysterious angle. And, take it from me, that can get old quick."

Sark scowled at her. "I should have left you with that rat Cummings."

Lina grabbed his hand in hers. "Now, don't start getting mean with me. I was just saying that I couldn't understand why Sydney would think she's falling in love with you. Honestly, you treat her like dirt most of the time."

"She agrees with that. She yelled at me about that very point a few days ago."

"So why does she keep coming back for more?"

"Sydney has a very complicated history. There are a lot of reasons."

"Could you explain some of them, maybe?"

"Her last three boyfriends have been murdered by her boss, murdered by her hand, and married to another woman for a year now. In that order."  
  
"What does that have to do with you?"  


"She's been hurt a lot. I figure that she isn't really seeing straight on issues that deal with her heart."

Lina smiled and squeezed his hand. "Listen. I'm going to go upstairs and settle in. Is the Blue Room open for me?"  


"Yes," Sark said suspicious of her. "Why do you want to stay in the Blue Room? You always stay in the bedroom across the hall from mine when you're here. Why the sudden change?"

"Because I have a feeling I know which room you put your new partner in. And, well, the Blue Room's right next to it. I want to get to know this Sydney Bristow a little more. It seems like she may have actually made a little dent in that suit of armor you wear."  


"She didn't," Sark yelled as he watched his sister go up the stairs.

"Like you believe that!"

"She didn't," he mumbled to himself.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sydney was settled into her room for about ten minutes before she was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "Come in!" she called from her bed.

"Hi, Sydney," Lina said as she entered the room. Sydney noticed that her British accent had slightly thinned out a little and rationalized it by thinking Lina must be relaxing since she's in a familiar and comfortable surrounding. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion. I wanted to talk with you a bit."

"What do you want to know?"

"Nothing serious. I want to know a little more about Julian's new partner. Is that okay?"

"Ask anything you want. I'm an open book." As an afterthought, she added, "Except if it deals with US national security. I can't divulge that stuff."

"I promise I won't ask." She made a cross sign over her heart. "So, you used to be an agent for the CIA?"

"The best agent if I do say so myself. I helped take down SD-6 by being one of two double agents working for both organizations. The other one was my father. My mother is Irina Derevko, Sark's old boss. Or maybe she's still his boss. I can never figure out where his true loyalties lie."

"First lesson about Julian, he doesn't have loyalties. He has leanings but no loyalties."

"That sounds promising for our partnership."

"Oh, he's trustworthy, don't get me wrong. It's just he doesn't really like to form attachments. The last time he did, he got burned pretty hard."

"Oh. Sark actually let himself get hurt, did he?"

"Yes." Lina sighed. "By me. But that's another story. This is about you. So, what does your boyfriend think about this whole thing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend. The last one I had got married when he thought I had died."

"Yeah, Julian told me that. But I didn't want to just bust out with that."

Sydney smiled at her softly. "Thanks for that. Michael Vaughn was my handler at the CIA. We fell in love. I thought he was the one. He wasn't. It's as simple as that."

"You sound just as closed off as your partner," Lina pointed out.

"He always told me things are a lot less messy that way. I think I'm starting to agree with that point."

"But the current state of affairs is far from messy, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

  
"I shouldn't have said that," Lina said, grimacing. Taking a deep breath, she tried her best to iron out the anger she knew Sydney was about to develop. "Julian and I have been best friends for practically all of our life. It gets hard for us to remember that some things should be kept to ourselves. He told me that you think you're in love with him. I, personally, think you're crazy. But to each his own."  


"He told you that I love him?" Sydney said.

Lina nodded hesitantly as she saw Sydney begin to get mad. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. Please don't kill Julian. It was my fault."

"Did he tell you what he said to me?"

Lina shook her head no.

"He said that he could probably never fall in love with me. That he wasn't capable of love. Sometimes he's so damn cold and mean."

"That's about right. So why do you keep thinking you're in love with him?"

"Well, there's these moments where he's… just… not. He's not mean or rude. It's like he's a different person sometimes."

"Tell me," Lina said. She sat down on the bed next to Sydney.

"Well, for starters, when I got shot on the beach in Nice, he didn't leave me for dead. I still can't figure out why he didn't leave me. He had no reason to save me, but yet he did."

"Julian might not admit it. But he does care for you. It might not be love, but it's something. Even I can tell that. So, there has to be more moments than that one."

"When I told him I thought I loved him, I got him to agree to date me for the last week I was with him here in London. I know it sounds crazy, but I just wanted to see if my feelings for him were real or if they were based on the situations we put ourselves in."

"And were they?"

"No. Not at all." Sydney smiled to herself. "It's not like there's any big, life-altering moment with him. It's just all these little moments, a minute here, an hour there, where it seems like he really understands me and it's just comfortable between us."

"God, you are in love, aren't you?"

"I can't help it."

  
"Tell me more. I want to know."  


"I think it will make you uncomfortable."

"I want to know," Lina insisted.

"Well, he was there for me when I found out that the last friend I had back in Los Angeles was actually working for the enemy I was fighting. He understood how much it hurt and he took such pains to keep me distracted after I found out. And then, there was the strangest moment of all." Sydney paused and looked at Lina, hesitant to continue.  


"Go on. Please."

"Well, I finally got Sark to admit that he didn't love me but he was attracted to me. He actually told me that he wanted me and had for a long time. It was progress, and I screwed it up."

"How so?"

"I tried to seduce him into sleeping with me."

"Nice!" Lina said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"It didn't happen," Sydney said with a chuckle. "I scared him off."

"You scared him off? I would have thought it would be the other way around. Julian can be a little too intense sometimes. Which is why it's hard for him to let his emotions out."

"Interesting to know."

"What did you do to scare him off?"

"I tried to be the woman I thought he wanted. I was wrong. He pushed me aside and told me that."

"So how could this make you love him more? I mean, rejection is never easy to take. And with the battle scars he told me you had in the area of love, I would imagine it would hurt twice as much."

"It did hurt twice as much. But instead of scolding me and leaving the room, he stayed. I asked him to stay, told him I need to stay. And he did. That little action contradicted everything I thought I knew."

"Wow," Lina said. "He's done a number on you."

"It's like I'm living with two different men." Sydney looked at the woman she had just met less than twenty-four hours earlier. "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this, what with you being who you are. But I think that I've gotten in deeper than before."

"How so?"

"I think I've fallen in love with both sides of him. The side that is so uncharacteristically sweet and nice to me. And the complete bastard in him." Lina grinned from ear to ear. "What?"

She patted Sydney on the leg and stood up for the bed. "I think you might actually be the one to crack his shell. No one has ever loved the bastard in him."

"Very funny," Sydney called as Lina laughed her way out of the room.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sydney had quickly realized that the talk she had with Lina was very similar to the way she used to talk with Francie. It was very nice to have that kind of relaxed, comfortable kind of vibe in her life again. Which is why it was no wonder that she slipped right back into the carefree kind of behavior she had back when she was just an agent of SD-6 and Will and Francie thought she worked in a bank.

Dancing around the room to the radio had always been one of her favorite normal activities to partake in with her friends. It felt good to be doing it again.

Sark knocked softly at her door. When there was no answer, he let himself in and had to try hard not to burst out laughing. It wasn't everyday he saw the cool Agent Bristow dancing on her bed in a tank top and shorts and singing into a hairbrush microphone.

"I can fully appreciate 'Like a Prayer' now that I have seemed it performed properly," Sark yelled over the music.

Sydney shrieked and fell into a lump onto the bed. After a second to recover, she ran over to her dresser and turned the radio off. "What the hell were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?"

"I knocked," he said with a smirk. "How was your little chat with Lina?"

"How did you know I talked with her? Were you spying on us?" Sydney's heart almost stopped at the thought that Sark had heard all the things she had said about him.

"No. I just knew that she would be in her to talk with you almost immediately when she insisted that she have the room next to yours. She's an extremely nosy person, I'm afraid."

"It's okay. She reminds me of Francie."

Sark nodded and sat on the edge of her dresser. "So what did you talk about?"

"You," Sydney said as she lightly bumped him with her hip.

"And what did you say about me?"

"A good majority of the conversation was focused on the fact that you were a complete bastard and probably aren't worthy of life."

"That's the kind of talk that warms my heart."

Sydney's heart began to beat fast at the smile he sent her way. She still couldn't figure out how he managed to have this effect on her. Unable to help herself, she leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, "We're wasting time."

Sark was about to ask her what she meant when he felt the soft pressure of her lips on his. He tried his best not to kiss her back, but he had slowly come to the realization that this was next to impossible. Sydney appreciated this new development as she felt his arms wrap around her. It seems she had been right about the progress she was making.

However, her triumph didn't last too long. When he realized what she had tricked him into doing, he pushed her away gently. "I thought we talked about this, Sydney. No romance in our partnership."

"I never agreed to that," she said with a sly smile. She walked over and sat on the bed to put distance between herself and Sark. If she stayed close to him, she was pretty sure she'd end up kissing him once more. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"You're trying to keep me from giving you another lecture about how we can't get involved."

"I don't need to hear you say it again," Sydney said. "Besides, things are a lot more complicated now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, with Lina here."

"True. That little devil always makes my life twice as complicated than it is when she's not around. But I love her for it."

"See. That's the complication right there." Sark looked at her in confusion. "When we were talking about you, she told me that she had hurt you pretty bad in the past. I assume that there's some unresolved business between you two. You're going to want to work that out, and I'm just in your way."

"You aren't really making any sense, Sydney," Sark said for he was still utterly confused.

"Well, I don't have all the information about your relationship with her," Sydney said with a hint of anger in her voice. This conversation really wasn't easy for her to begin with, and Sark was just making it that much harder.

"And that's my fault," he said as he finally realized what she was thinking. "I kept a few key details about m y relationship with Lina secret. And I'm going to apologize for that in advance. You see, I was afraid if I told you who Lina really was it might somehow put her in danger. I know that sounds crazy."

"And a little bit mean and hurtful." She cursed silently as she felt her eyes well up with tears. She had just started to think this situation was working out and then he had to go and withhold information from her.

"Don't cry," Sark said walking over to the bed and sitting down next to her. He grabbed her hand. "You know I can't take it when you cry."

"I'm trying not to. But I had just started to trust you and then you had to go and bring an ex-girlfriend into the mix."

Sark wiped the tears from underneath her eyes. "Sydney, she's my sister."

She looked at him in shock. "Lina is your… sister…"

"Yes, she's my little sister. I thought that keeping that information from you would protect both of you. If you got captured, you wouldn't have to worry about knowing the one weakness I have. And she thought you already knew then she would be more willing to open up. My sister is just like me. She likes to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself, all bottled up inside. I thought you might be good for her. I mean, you've already made me confess things that I never thought I would be telling anyone."

"So your sister is your Achilles' Heel?"

  
Sark chuckled. "Yes, she is. I've spent my whole life trying to keep her safe and away from the life that my father sucked me into. I never wanted her to get wrapped up in this spy world. When she said she hurt me greatly, she was talking about the day she joined the Covenant."

"Which is why you have been so adamant about destroying it."

"Now don't go thinking that I'm not still the same man you hate with everything you are. I'm not trying to tell you that everything I've done is for the good of my sister. I've done some pretty horrible things that had no good reasoning behind them."

Sydney squeezed his hand and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Good. Because I was starting to get worried about you."

"Anyway, enough with that. I came here to tell you that I have a mission planned out for us tomorrow."

"So soon?" Sydney mumbled.

"It should be simple. You and I are going to go into a Covenant facility and just tamper with a few of their computer files. There's eight hundred million dollars that I'd really appreciate being returned."

Sydney stood up and walked with Sark to the door. "I'm glad you told me about your sister."

"Me, too," he admitted from the hallway. "By the way, what did you mean before about wasting time?"

"Life's short. We both know that. I just think we shouldn't be wasting time dancing around what we have together. I've been hurt a lot in the past, and I know that should probably make me hesitant to jump back into a relationship. But I can't deny that I'm really, truly in love with you. That's what I was telling your sister. That I love the man who sits on a bed with me and wipes away my tears." She smiled at him. "And I'm really starting to love the man who is ruthless in getting what he wants."

Sark nodded and began to walk down the hall, calling over his shoulder, "Be ready to board the plane at nine tomorrow morning, Sydney!"

She sighed and shut the door on this current chapter of the emotional roller coaster of her life.


	13. The Heat of the Mission

"This should be simple, ladies," Sark said as the trio entered into Underworld, one of the hottest nightclubs in Paris.

"This should be fun," Lina added. Her British accent had gotten a little thicker. A sign that she was nervous Sydney decided.

Sydney was still skeptical of the fact that this trendy nightclub was one of the Covenant's facilities. But Sark kept telling her that his intel was one hundred percent correct. The club was definitely not her scene. It vaguely reminded her of the mission she and Vaughn had gone on to that sex club in Berlin, and not in a good way. At least her dress wasn't skintight rubber.

"On second thought," she considered, "maybe skintight black isn't that much better. And my shoes are a good inch higher than the ones before."

"Let's go over this again," Sark said as they made their way to a vacant table. "Sydney and I are going to go into the back rooms, find a Covenant terminal, and locate my money. While we're doing that--"

"I distract the majority of the club," Lina finished. "Though I have to say you could have picked out a better wig for me, Julian. Purple spikes? Who has hair like that?"

"I had to wear a wig like that once," Sydney supplied.

"Okay. Who besides international spies has hair like that?"

Sark laughed. "Are you ready for this?" he asked both of his companions. When they both nodded, he grabbed Sydney's hand and pulled her to the dance floor.

"Typically a guy asks a woman to dance. They don't act like cavemen and drag them onto the floor," Sydney said.

Sark pulled her incredibly close to his body and whispered in her ear, "It wasn't a matter of permission."

Sydney swallowed loudly as they began to move to the music. She knew that Sark was subtly moving them into position near the doors to the rooms in the back of the nightclub, but it still seemed to her like there was something else going on in there dancing together.

"Now," he whispered pulling her into the back hallway as he saw Lina get up onto the stage.

Sydney almost did a double take as she heard a female voice begin to sing. "That was what you had meant by distraction?" she asked. She had expected Lina to start a fight or something, not get up on the stage and perform.

Sark didn't respond until they had found a room that seemed to be their objective. It didn't fit in with the trendy nightclub mystique so it was a good bet that it was affiliated with the Covenant instead.

"I never explained about the first time you and I met face to face, did I? You were sang to me and Khasinau in that night club to keep up the premise of your alias."

Sydney smiled at him as she took a seat in front of the computer. "I had you hanging onto my every word."

"Yes, you do. But not for the reasons you think." Sydney gave him a doubtful look. "Well, maybe it was partially because of the reasons you think. But another part was you reminded me of my sister. Before she got mixed up in my life, she used to be a singer at a nightclub."

"Very interesting," she replied as she tried to locate the file detailing the distribution of the Covenant's funds.

"Have you found anything yet?" Sark asked as he stole a look out the door and down the hallway.

"Got it!" she exclaimed. "Technically, your money hasn't even been touched. The Covenant spent the majority of it, but then replenished it using the funds provided to them by Taylor Cummings. I don't know why they would do that, but they did."

"Stand up," Sark said, motioning her out of the chair. He began typing furiously.

"What are you doing?"

"You found my money. I'm not about to let the Covenant keep it."

Sydney watched as he initiated a money transfer to a bank in the Cayman Islands. "Isn't that easily traceable?" she asked.

"Not the way I'm doing it. This is just the first transfer that's going to be made. I set up this account for a specific purpose, and that's to keep the money deposited in it from being traced. The money will stay in that account for about thirty seconds and then it will hop straight into another. This will go on for about thirty accounts, effectively scrambling any tracers put on it."

"How long will that take?" she asked.

"I should have the money in about a week. It will keep bouncing back and forth through these thirty accounts through that whole time. It takes a while, but it's worth it to know that the whole exchange will be completely secure."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you sound amazingly sexy when you talk shop?" Sydney joked.

"All the time," Sark said as he took a disk out of his pocket and popped it into the computer drive.

"I'm not enjoying all this hidden agenda stuff you're springing on me. What are you doing now?"

"I didn't want to worry you about all this if we couldn't even locate my money or if it was completely gone."

"Thanks for the consideration. Never do it again," she hissed.

"I'm injecting a virus into the Covenant's system. While we're here, we might as well deal the Covenant a blow."

"I think stealing eight hundred million dollars is a pretty big blow."

  
"Well, then call it a cherry on top," Sark said. He popped the disk out of the computer and put it back into his pocket. "Let's go."

They made it halfway down the hallway when Sark's cell phone began to ring. He scanned the hallway and pushed Sydney into what turned out to be a maintenance closet.

As she tried to get untangled from the mop that Sark had shoved her into, she hissed, "Do you really have to answer that right now?"

Sark just gave her a look and flipped the phone up. "What's wrong, Leeny?"

Sydney saw him noticeable pale as Lina told him whatever new development had happened. After a minute, he flipped the phone closed and turned to Sydney.

"Bad news. It seems the CIA couldn't keep Taylor Cummings in their custody for that long. He's free, and he's warned all the Covenant cells to be on the lookout for us. It seems like when Lina got done doing her set, which she said mesmerized the crowd, she got a call from Cummings himself."

"He had no idea that Lina was your sister?"

"Obviously, our clever ruse of changing her last name to Beck fools even the smartest of people."

"What did Cummings have to say?"

"He seems to think that you and I are going to break into the Covenant's nightclub cell in Paris and try to extract my stolen money."

"He obviously has a good source of intel," Sydney said. "What do we do now that everyone's aware we're either already here or on our way?"

"Get out as soon as we can." Sark paused and looked out to the door. "Which may be a while. There are agents flooding the hallway. You and I might just have to fight our way out of here."

"I've seen us fight," she said confidently. "They have no chance at all."

"I'm glad one of us is confident. We're going to have to take an alternate route out of the club."

They waited until the hallway cleared and then made a dash down the hallway. As they turned to the right, they ran headfirst into two men. Sydney didn't waste any time with questions or friendly fight banter. She just punched the man on the left hard in the nose and kicked him in the groin. One kick to the head put him out for the count.

She was happy to see that Sark had neutralized the second agent while she was fighting. "Let's get going again," he said, grabbing her hand.

The next corner they turned put them face to face with their third accomplice.

"I thought I told you to get out of here, Lina!" Sark hissed.

"I know you too well, Julian. You need my help if you're going to get out of here." Lina directed them into one of the rooms off the corridor. "The Covenant has sealed off all of the exits anyway. Cummings is going to know I'm working with you when he figures out that I was at Underworld when he called. I mean, I have been missing since Sydney captured him."

"So what do you propose?" Sydney asked.

"I propose that you all turn around and put your hands up," said a voice from behind them.

All three turned at the exact time to see six Covenant agents holding guns on them. Hesitantly, they did as they were told and put their hands in the air. Sark subtly shifted over closer to Sydney. As the Covenant agents started issuing more commands, he whispered in her ear. "When I make my move, I want you to run past the agents into the hallway. Don't stop until you're out of the building."

"I'm not leaving you and Lina behind," she whispered back.

"If you know what's good for you, you will. These men have seen Lina with us. We can't just knock them out. I would prefer if you weren't a part of what I'm about to do."

Sydney's eyes widened in comprehension of what Sark was planning on doing, and she nodded her head slightly in agreement.

Sark let what was about to happen sink in for another moment and then he made him move. Two agents were taken out with the gun he had concealed in his suit jacket before they knew what was happening. He sighed in relief as he realized that Sydney had followed his instructions and was nowhere to be found. Lina followed his example and was fighting a couple agents of her own.

He returned his attention back to the two remaining agents. It only took him a minute to neutralize them. Turning his attention back to his sister, his heart dropped into his stomach. There was only one agent left, but that agent was holding a gun to his sister's head.

Before the agent had a second to speak, Sydney came back into the room.

"There were a few guards outside. They… aren't a problem anymore." She stopped when she saw Lina with a gun to her head.

"Time to chose," the agent said in a French accent. "You can save yourself and this amazingly radiant, beautiful woman." Sark tightened his fists in anger at the way this man was eyeing his partner. "Or you can try to save Ms. Beck here and she'll probably die in the process. I would suggest you just leave her behind. Mr. Cummings should be pretty lenient even though it seems she's been helping the people who kidnapped him."

"If you think for one minute he's going to abandon her--" Sydney began. She was quickly interrupted by Sark.

"This might change your mind," the agent said pointing to the doorway. Another agent had appeared and was now holding a gun to Sydney.  


"Great," Sark muttered under his breathe wondering what he could do to get all of them out of this one.

"Looks like you're going to have to choose, Mr. Sark. You'll only have time to save one of these women."

The momentary lapse in his calmness was gone in seconds. "There's one flaw in your little plan here. I couldn't care about Ms. Beck. I have no further use for her."

Before his words had sunk in, Sark had taken out the agent holding a gun to Sydney. He forced her out the door and down the hall. "We still need to get out of here," he finally said.

"You're not going to comment on the fact that you just abandoned your little sister?" Sydney exclaimed.

"This was one of the reasons I didn't want you to know that Lina was my sister. I wanted to save you from having to know how difficult decisions like this would be."

"It didn't seem that difficult in my opinion."

They kept running down corridor after corridor until Sark saw a massive group of agents turn the corner in front of them. He shoved Sydney into the first door he saw and locked it behind them.

"Great. A bathroom," she muttered. "Nice choice."

She was surprised when he didn't snap a sarcastic remark back at her. For the first time, she noticed how distraught he looked. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was on the verge of crying.

"God, I'm heartless," Sydney said as she moved to stand beside him. "I'm yelling at your for making such a hard decision without thinking about what it's doing to you. I'm sorry."

"I didn't want to abandon her. I thought she would be able to take care of herself. Don't you think she'd be able to take care of herself?" He leaned against the bathroom counter.

Sydney sat on the counter top right next to where he was leaning. "If she's anything like you, I'm sure by now she's already found a way to get away from that stupid agent and out of this club."

"She's much better at this than I am," Sark said. "She was always much better than me at everything. It's one of the most frustrating things about her."

"Then I'm sure she'll be fine." Sydney grasped his hand lightly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes listening to people run back and forth in the hallway.

"It's probably going to be quite a while before we get out of here," she admitted.

"I'm sorry for getting you stuck in a bathroom in a Covenant cell/Paris nightclub. It's not what I intended."

"I'm glad to hear you sounding a little more normal there. You were starting to worry me. For a second there, I thought you might actually be feeling emotions." She exaggerated a shudder which made him laugh. "We should probably get comfortable."

She kicked off her shoes and insisted that he do the same. The whole time he complained that now if they had to make a run for it, they wouldn't have time to put their shoes back on. She just stuck her tongue out at him.

After that, they returned to silence until something occurred to Sydney. "Why did you save me and not her?"

"I told you she can take care of herself. She's been doing it for years."

"So have I. You've seen how proficient I am at taking care of myself, Sark. So, again, why did you save me and not your own sister?"

Sark paused for a moment to formulate his answer. "I had to make sure that you got out of this club okay."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just had to."

Sydney reached up and turned his head so that he was looking her straight in the eye. "Seems to me like maybe you're having second thoughts about this keeping business separate from pleasure idea."

"What are you talking about, Sydney?" Sark asked, playing dumb. "I thought we agreed that this relationship discussion was over."

"You don't get an illogical need to protect someone unless you have feelings for her."

Sark rolled his eyes and stood up from where he was leaning. Sydney reached out and grabbed his arm to keep him from moving away from her.

"Don't try to avoid it. You're the one that brought it up this time."

"Get your hands off of me, Agent Bristow, before I do something we both will regret later. You know that I won't hesitate to hurt you."

Sydney was starting to get pissed off. "If I remember correctly, I'm the one who always seems to be doing the hurting."

Sark seemed to relax slightly until he heard her mutter "selfish bastard" under her breath. That set him off enough to swing a punch. Sydney swiftly dodged it and gave him a kick to his midsection.

Sark growled and threw his jacket onto the floor. "This has been a lot time coming, Bristow. So don't pull your punches."

Instead of responding, she punched him in the face. Hard. "Is that better?"

"Much," he said wiping the small trickle of blood off where his lip had been split open. He grabbed her ruthlessly and threw her against the wall. The impact didn't do much because she braced herself against the wall and threw another kick in his direction. This one connected with his left knee.

Sydney quickly went to punch him with her right fist, but amazingly he was attempting the same move. They both blocked with their left hands and stood at a standstill, just scowling at each other. Sydney seized the temporary distraction to kick him hard in the stomach again.

He dropped to one knee and braced himself with his hands on the floor.

"Had enough?" Sydney taunted from above.

In response, he rushed her and pushed her hard up against the wall. "No," he growled. Unexpectedly, instead of hitting her, he pulled her face to his and crushed her lips to his. "I'll never get enough of you," he whispered between kisses.

Caught up in the moment, Sydney grabbed his shirt and ripped. Buttons flew everywhere but neither one noticed. He picked her up and placed her on the counter, never breaking their frantic kissing. She felt his hands snake up to her back and begin to unzip her dress.

"You should be proud you've resisted me for so long," Sydney joked as her dress hit the floor.

"Oh, believe me. I am," Sark managed to get out before he gave in to the urge to lay kisses all over her neck.

Sydney pushed off the remains of his shirt and placed her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart beating at a rapid rate similar to hers. Her hands trailed down his body to the waist of his pants. She almost laughed when he jumped as she dragged on the buckle of his belt.

"Scared?" she asked hoarsely. 

Sark didn't answer, just lay her down on the bathroom counter and began trailing kisses along her stomach. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin and her pulse begin to race as she softly started to moan. Desperate, she pulled his head back up to hers and kissed him forcefully on the lips.

In one smooth motion, he scooped her up and pushed her against the wall again. His hand trailed down her back and slowly unclasped her bra. It fell to the floor unnoticed. Before she could process what had happened, his mouth was on her breast, tickling and teasing.

She went back to the pants she had tried to unbuckle earlier, and this time she succeeded in unfastening them. Without much thought or effort, he kicked both his pants and boxers off.

"I need you now," she growled.

His breath stopped as he saw the desire in her eyes. As much as he wanted this moment to last forever, the intensity of it was getting to him. He threw her back down onto the counter and slipped off her underwear. Not wasting a moment, he plunged himself inside of her.

Her mouth was frantic and fevered under his, and her nails scraped wildly down his back before digging forcefully into his hips. His pace quickened as she ground herself against him and cried out rather noisily. Her hips bucked in a brutal plea for speed.

She groaned in pleasure when she felt him pick up the pace of his thrusts. Her body was practically shaking as she teetered on the edge. Hearing the sound of her name on his lips, they both plummeted over that edge together.

Panting with sheer exhaustion and rapture, she picked her head up from where it rested on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Well, that killed a little time. I wonder if the coast is clear now."

If the sounds they had been making didn't alert the agents to their location, she was pretty sure their sounds of laughter would.


	14. The Aftermath

Sark peered out into the corridor and was surprised to see it completely empty. He opened the door and walked out into the hallway, cautiously looking around. He kept scanning as he slipped on his jacket and buttoned it in a hopeless attempt to cover up his ripped shirt. "The coast is clear, Sydney."

Sydney fixed her dress and walked through the door he held open. She also did a quick scan of the corridor. Deciding that it was okay, she began to walk down it. A few feet later, she hesitated, turned back to Sark, and asked, "So what does this mean?"

He wished that he could find it in his heart to pretend to have no idea what she was talking about, but not even he was that cruel. "I'm not sure. We can figure that out as soon as we get out of this building and meet up with my sister."

Sydney nodded and started walking again. She heard Sark's footsteps quicken as he rushed to catch up to her. When they were walking shoulder to shoulder, she felt his hand slip into hers.

"I know you're scared. Don't be. We're going to get out of here."

She had no idea how he knew that she was scared, but for one of the first times, she was ready to admit that she did feel safer knowing that he was next to her.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

They eventually emerged into the main club and weren't surprised to find it deserted. It had to be at least seven in the morning by now, and not even the hottest club in Paris would still be booming. Sydney felt her heart leap slightly at the prospect of getting out of this horrible situation.

Still hand-in-hand, they began to run across the floor of the club since the end was in sight.

"Not so fast," yelled a Russian voice from up on stage.

They turned to see a small figure standing on the stage holding a gun to them. The figure was dressed all in black and had a black ski mask covering their face. Without any communication between them, Sydney and Sark both ran for cover. They weren't surprised to hear the agent begin to shoot at them.

Sark made it to the stage first and kicked their attacker squarely in the back. The agent dropped to the floor but didn't loose the gun. As he made a move to kick the downed person in the gut, a cleverly executed roll made the kick miss its mark.

The agent laughed while standing up. "You are horribly predictable, Mr. Sark."

"And you're easily distracted," Sydney said as she went to punch the agent in the head.

"Not even close," was the reply as the blow was dodged. Sydney felt a foot connect with her abdomen and felt herself being flung off the stage.

Sark let the anger rise to his head and made a lunge which the agent quickly sidestepped. He found himself face down on the stage. As he turned over, he saw their attacker draw the gun again.

"Don't move." Sark stole a glance at Sydney and saw her stand up, pretty much unharmed. "Is that relief I see in your eyes? This woman means something to you, doesn't she?"

Sark didn't reply. This seemed to infuriate the agent even more. The agent walked over to Sark and used the butt of the gun to hit him in the head.

"We'll see how much you care about her now," the agent whispered in his ear as he reeled in pain.

It was almost like slow motion. Sark watched their attacker stand up and point the gun at Sydney. He saw Sydney freeze in her tracks. He heard the sound of the gun being fired. Afterwards, he swore he saw the bullet fly through the air and hit Sydney in the chest. Then there was this inhuman howl, and Sydney's body hit the floor.

It was only later that he realized the howl had come from his throat.

"Go to her," the Russian agent whispered. "You probably want to be with her during her last moments on earth."

Under normal circumstances, Sark would have taken the agent down first and then gone to Sydney's side. But it seemed like he had left all his common sense behind after he heard the gun go off. He forgot that the Covenant agent was even there and stumbled over to Sydney's side.

"Syd?" he muttered. He couldn't believe that there was barely any blood on her.

She coughed and looked up at him. "You promised you'd get me out of here," she whispered.

"And I will. I told you that you could always trust me."

"I let you down." She laughed lightly. "You told me before when we were Mexico City that I had never let you down or hurt you. That I never could. I guess you were wrong."

"You haven't let me down," Sark said. "Not as long as you keep fighting."

"I'm too tired to fight, Sark." He felt his heart freeze as her breathing began to slow considerable.

"You are not too tired, Sydney. You are the strongest person I know. Which is why you're going to keep fighting for me."

She looked up into his eyes. "Don't cry," she whispered.

With that comment, he realized that there were in fact tears flowing from his eyes. "It's a miracle, Sydney. You've made me cry." He hoped the humor and sarcasm would keep her talking.

"Please don't cry for me. I'm not in any pain."

That comment scared Sark. If she wasn't feeling any pain, the bullet wound was a lot worse than he expected.

"I love you," Sydney whispered. "Even your flaws."

"That's right. You stuck around through it all, which is why I need you to keep fighting."

"I saw you kill those men earlier."

"I know. I'm sorry for that."

"It's a part of who you are, I know that. And I don't think I mind it. It's what makes you you."

"Sydney, I don't like this fatalistic tone you have."

"I'm dying. We both know that."

"You can't die on me now, Sydney. Not now."

"Why not? Your life will be simpler without me in it. I just complicate things. You're better off without me hanging around, getting shot, screwing things up."

"I like my complicated life with you. I've gotten used to it. I've gotten used to you in it."

Sydney's breathing became a little shallower, and Sark could hear her struggle for air. "I can't hold on for much longer. I'm sorry. I love you, Julian."

Sark felt Sydney's body go limp in his arms as her eyes slowly slid shut. "No," he kept repeating over and over. "I didn't even tell you I loved you. You can't leave me until I've told you. You can't leave me now that I've figured that out. Please. Come back, Sydney. I need you. Come back."

Sark continued to cry with her in his arms until he heard clapping from the stage. The agent who had shot Sydney was still standing there waiting for him.

"That was a brilliant act," the agent snarled. "I almost believed you actually loved her."

"I did love her," Sark said with vehemence.

"You're incapable of loving," the agent replied.

"You don't know me."

"But I do." The agent slid the ski mask off their face and smiled proudly at a stunned Sark.


	15. Unmasked

"Leeny?" Sark choked out.

"Yes, dear brother. It's me," Lina said as she hopped off the stage. She was still talking in a Russian accent, which added to his confusion. "I'm awfully sorry I had to kill your lady love like that. It's all in a day's work, I guess."

"Wha… Wh… Why did you have to?" he stammered. The events of the last thirty seconds were too much for even him to process.

"What you're experiencing right now is shock. And grief, sadness, anger. They're emotions. I know this may be new to you, dear brother. Embrace them, Julian. Embrace what's happened. I shot the only woman you've ever loved. Probably the only woman you will ever love."

He just stared at her in disbelief.

"I know what you're thinking right. Cummings got to my little sister. She's been brainwashed and forced to do this. Or maybe this is all an elaborate ruse for you to admit your feelings for Sydney. No, I don't think that's it. Or even better! I'm a double. Someone's doubled me like they doubled your ex-girlfriend. How is Allison by the way?"

"Dead," Sark managed to spit out.

"Well, that seems to be a common theme with you. No, Julian, I'm not brainwashed or doubled or cloned or setting you up or any of those easy outs. I'm just me. The woman you raised."

Sark stood up, finally laying Sydney's motionless body down gently on the wood floor, and walked over to his sister. In the back of his mind, he knew that he had to figure out why and when his sister had become such a cruel person. If he didn't lock away the waves of emotions that were ripping their way through him and work out why his sister had done this horrendous act of violence, he knew it would eat away at him for every day that he lived. "So, then explain to me why you let her get all the way through the building and then shot her dead with the exit in sight."

"It wasn't supposed to come to this, Julian." Lina took a step toward him. She was surprised to see him take a step away from her. She had thought he had seemed to get a hold on his emotions, but maybe he was a little angrier than she supposed. "It should have been easy. Mr. Cummings offered me a sizable sum of money a few weeks ago to get this Sydney Bristow into his custody. Imagine my surprise when she turned up as your partner."

"But why did you kill her? You and I both know that you don't get paid for dead bodies." It took all of his efforts to maintain focus on his sister and not dwell on the fact that he might be able to save Sydney if he could just get both of them out of the nightclub immediately. His sister wasn't about to let him do that, so he wasn't even going to try.

"I got a little angry at the effect she had on you. It screwed everything up here tonight." Lina started waving the gun that was still in her hand at her brother in anger. "You weren't supposed to pick her, you idiot. When I staged that little scene when she and I both had guns to our heads, you were supposed to pick me, your baby sister, the woman you always do everything to protect."  


"But I didn't," Sark said with a smirk. "I picked Sydney."  
  
"And that made me a little mad, brother dearest. And you know how I get when I'm mad."

"Why would you do this to me, Lina? I still don't understand."

"You were always the better spy, Julian. I got tired of being second-best in everyone's eyes. It seems like being better than you is a fantastic motivator."

"There was a reason I never wanted you to get involved in this world." Sark could feel his attention slowly slip away from his sister. It was killing him not to be next to Sydney, trying to make her come back.

"I know. You protected me from it from most of my life. But isn't it a guarantee that if something's forbidden, you're going to want to try it. If you hadn't tried so hard to keep me from it, I might have just worked side by side with you."

"The life I lead is too cruel even if you were by my side the whole time. I almost die every day, and that's not an exaggeration."

Lina glared at her brother. "You're the one who forced me to find other means of employment. I could have worked with Irina Derevko, just like you, but I couldn't let you know I had become a spy." She paused. "Would you stop looking at her like she's going to come back from the dead? I killed her!"

"You obviously don't know your objective that well. That woman has an uncanny way of returning from the dead."

"She's not coming back. I shot her in the heart." Lina was happy to see the harshness of her statement affect her brother. His normal coolness faltered for one second, but it came right back.

"When you love someone, you never lose hope. Especially with lives like ours." He turned his attention away from Sydney's body. If he kept looking at it, he knew he'd lose his concentration, and there was still more to figure out. He looked his sister over. "What now?"

"Well, I'm going to the back-up plan. You were always Mr. Cumming's second choice. So I guess I'll have to hand you over to him instead of Sydney."

"I'm your brother, Lina. You are honestly that cold-hearted to hand your brother over to his enemy?"

"Absolutely, our father taught us how to be ruthless since we were small. I'm just following in his footsteps. I'm following in your footsteps."

"I'm not going to fight you," Sark said.

"I can tell." She started to laugh as she saw his eyes well up with tears once again. Smiling, she held her arms open for him. "If our father was alive to see you now! Oh, Julian, I really love you, you know that."

Sark nodded and embraced his sister in defeat. "I love you, too, Leeny. I'm so sorry… for everything."

Lina's face scrunched up in pain as she felt the metal of a knife blade slide into her abdomen. She pulled away from her brother and saw the blood stained knife in his hands. "Julian?" she whispered before she hit the floor.

"If you had really known me, sis, you would have known that I wouldn't let you get away with killing Sydney. I can be just as unfeeling as you." He stared at her body for a minute as he watched her slip away from life. This was the last thing he had ever wanted to do, but it was the only thing he could think of to end this fight. He wouldn't give up on the hope that Sydney could still be brought back.

He dropped the knife where he stood and walked over to where Sydney lay. He took her body up in his arms again and held on for dear life. "I've never been one to believe in a higher power," he said out loud. "But if there's something up there, watching over, I could use some magic right now. I know that I'm the least worthy person out there. But that would make Sydney Bristow the most deserving. Please. I don't care if she never wants to see me again. Just bring her back."

Sark figured his plea was his last ditch effort and it probably wouldn't work. Which is why he was so frightened when Sydney's body jumped as if it were shocked. He waited a few moments and then he felt her body shake again. Still in disbelief, he saw her chest begin to rise and fall. 

He didn't waste any time as soon as he heard her begin to breath, shallow but surprisingly steady. His cell phone was where he left it in the pocket of his pants. Flipping it open, he dialed the number of the only person he knew would help him save Sydney.

When he heard a gruff voice answer, he took a deep breath and began, "Your daughter needs your help to keep her alive."


	16. The Two Men In Her Life

Before Sark could even process it, the Underground nightclub was flooded with paramedics and gendarmes. Sydney was quickly hooked up to an IV and a bag of blood while being put on a stretcher and rolled to a nearby waiting ambulance. The only reason Sark thinks he was allowed to go along in the ambulance was the fact that he would not let go of Sydney's hand.

Instead of being transported to the nearest public hospital, Sydney was taken to a secure French Intelligence hospital. Sark figured that this was all due to the pull Jack Bristow had in the intelligence world. In the back of his head, he knew that the phone call he had placed to him was probably the best thing and worst thing he could have done.

Sydney was immediately whisked into surgery where the bullet was removed from her chest. It hadn't pierced the heart but had done some serious internal damage. The shock to her system and internal injuries had caused her heart to stop. The surgery took two and a half hours, and by the end the doctors still had no explanation for the mysterious shock her system underwent to start her breathing again.

Sark was afraid that they were going to deny him access to her when she came out of surgery. But for some reason, they didn't even pay attention to his presence in the room. He sat by her side for six straight hours, barely moving. Every second he was afraid that she would stop breathing and he would lose her all over again.

The only think that broke his vigil was the sound of Jack Bristow's voice.

"I got here as soon as I could, Sark. How is my daughter doing?"

"The doctor's say that if she can make it through the next twenty-four hours, she has a fifty percent chance of recovering. She went without oxygen for at least four minutes, so they're not sure if she'll ever wake up."

"They don't know Sydney," Jack said. He pulled a chair up on the other side of the bed. "She's my little fighter."

"Mr. Bristow?" Sark asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"The doctors still have no idea what caused her heart to start beating again. They can't figure out what happened. I was wondering…" He trailed off to try to rephrase what he was about to ask. "Well, I hope you don't take this as an accusation because it's far from it. But, do you know what caused her body to do that?"

Jack nodded slowly. "It was actually the work of the Covenant that saved her." Seeing the look of shock on Sark's face, he continued. "When Sydney was kidnapped by them, they made a few improvements on her body. They altered certain aspects to make her an even more valuable asset. The CIA discovered most of them and had the process reversed. Except for one improvement which they couldn't reverse without killing her."

Sark motioned for him to continue. "It was a new form of technology they were trying out. They attached small electro charges to the walls of Sydney's heart. The charges were inactive and set to become activated if her heart was to stop beating for a length of over four minutes. This gave Sydney a leave way in case an assignment they sent her on forced her to pretend she was dead."

"So the Covenant made it impossible for her to die?"

"Theoretically, yes. If at any point her heart stopped beating, the charges would serve as a defibrillator. They would shock her heart back into working."

"The Covenant is a lot more immoral and vile than I ever guessed."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, each one holding one of Sydney's hands. The only noise was the steady beep of the heart monitor reassuring them that Sydney was still there.

"We need to discuss something, Mr. Sark," Jack said, finally interrupting the silence. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Sark took a deep breath. No matter what he told people, Jack Bristow was one of the few people who had ever intimidated him. "Let me start with saying that I'm exactly the person you think I am. I'm not going to try to convince you that I'm the best thing for your daughter because frankly, I'm not sure if I am. But your daughter has been the best thing I've ever had in my life. She has that effect on everyone she comes into contact with."

"We agree on that point."

Summing up all his courage, Sark said the last words he knew Jack wanted to hear. "I love your daughter, Mr. Bristow. She's the only person I think I've ever loved."

"I know that you love her," Jack said simply.

"How?" Sark asked, confused.

"The fact that when she needed help, when she needed me the most, you pushed all your previous feelings and opinions to the back of your head and called me. I know it must not have been easy for you, but you did what was most important for Sydney."

Jack held up his hand as Sark tried to say something. "Don't interrupt. I know exactly what kind of man you are, Julian Sark. You're a murderer, a thief, a scoundrel. That won't change no matter how much you love my daughter. I can't fault you for those things, though. Because I'm no saint. I've probably done things twice as horrible as your actions."

"Thank you, sir."

"For whatever reason, my daughter seems to care for you. I trust her judgment more than anyone else's. If she sees good in you, there must be some truth to that. You and I both know Sydney will make it through this. And if she chooses to stay with you, I'm going to let her do that. She will be in contact with me on a regular basis, though. The CIA knows that she's with you so there is no more need for the secrecy she made me swear to."

"Understood."

Jack stared Sark straight in the eye. "Let me make something clear. I don't blame you for what's happened to her. I understand that you made an extremely hard choice to avenge my daughter. For that I'm grateful. But if you cause my daughter to be hurt ever again, I won't be so lenient. You're not the only one who can be vengeful and ruthless."

Sark nodded. Inside, he was thanking whoever was listening for the compassion and understanding Jack Bristow had given him. "Thank you."

The two men stayed by her side for days. The doctors kept coming in and telling them they should go get some rest, rent a hotel room, take a break. All they got in response were either an unintelligible growl or a scowl. Both men were in a silent pact not to leave her side for a moment.

After a week of no improvement, the doctor started to prep the two men for what may be in store for her. "The longer she stays unconscious, the harder and less probable it is that she'll ever wake up. You may want to consider what her wishes would be."  


Sark stood up, grabbed the young doctor by the color of his jacket, and slammed him up against the wall. "If you are suggesting what I think you are, I advise you to reconsider. There is no bloody way I'm going to let this woman die if she's still fighting for her life."

"Security," the young doctor yelled loudly.

Jack got up and placed his hand on Sark's shoulder. "Why don't you put him down?"

When Sark complied with the suggestion, Jack led the young doctor out into the hall, trying to smooth over the situation. He didn't want the hospital staff deciding they were hostile visitors and banning them from seeing Sydney.

Sark was left staring at the wall with the doctor's insinuation echoing through his head. Unable to contain his rage, he punched the wall with all his might. That only gave the wall a large dent and him a hand with bloody knuckles.

"That looked like it hurt," whispered a very familiar, very hoarse voice from behind him.

Hearing it, he shut his eyes and turned around slowly. He pleaded with anyone who was listening that this not be a trick of his mind. He opened his eyes to the scene he had been imagining in his head for a week.

"Sydney." He was surprised he could even form that one word.

"Do I really look that bad?" she asked in jest.

"You look beautiful." He rushed over to her side and grabbed her hand.

"What happened?"

"That's not important now. The only thing that matters is that you woke up for us."

"Us?"

"Your father's outside trying to keep the doctors from suing me for abuse." Sark smiled and went out into the hallway.

When Jack came into the room, Sydney started to cry. "Daddy?"

"I'm here, baby," Jack said as he sat down on the hospital bed and pulled her close. "I'm here."

"How? Why?"

"Sark called me as soon as the Covenant implants revived you."

"Revived me?" she asked.

"You died, Sydney," Sark said from his position by the doorway. He was hesitant to intrude on this father-daughter moment. His hesitation was erased when Sydney held out her hand for him.

"You are the two most important men in my life. For all the doubts I had, I knew that you two wouldn't let me down."

"You need to rest, Sydney," Sark said. Jack nodded and stood up.

"You'll explain more later, right?" she asked, even though she was already falling asleep again.

"Absolutely."

The two men went to their respected seats and settled in for another night of uncomfortable sleep.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

When Sydney woke up in the morning, Sark was the only person asleep by her bedside. He was sleeping sighting up in probably the most uncomfortable chair she had ever seen. Feeling a slight pressure, she glanced down and saw his hand in hers. She couldn't help but stare at how strangely peaceful he seemed for the few moments before he realized she had woken up. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn that smile on his face got wider as his eyes met hers.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he whispered back.

They stared at each other in silence for longer than both realized. "You should probably explain to me what happened," Sydney finally suggested.

"You're not going to like it. And it's not going to be easy to hear," he began.

"I'm a strong woman. I can take it."

"I know that." He winked at her which made her smiled even more. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was getting up from where the Covenant agent had kicked me. I saw that she was talking to you and you were staring at me… with a look of horror…"

"That's right. That was the moment she told me she was going to shoot you. Which she did. Then, she told me that I should probably be with you in your last few moments on earth. Little did she know that you couldn't kill Sydney Bristow."

"Damn straight!" Sydney said in a rather weak attempt at shouting.

"Well, you did die for about four or five minutes."

"Please tell me you killed her for me."

"That's a little more cruel than I like to hear you, Agent Bristow. But, yes, I did kill her."

Sydney noticed that he was holding something back. "What aren't you telling me?"

"The woman that shot you. That was Lina."

"Your sister shot me?" Sark waited for the other half of the story to sink in. "And you killed her?"

"She's not the little sister I remember. Working as a spy, with Cummings, without me by her side, it changed her. She was so cold, even by my standards."

"How did you get the courage to kill your own sister?" Sydney wasn't appalled at the idea of it, only shocked.

"I guess I thought about all the courage I've seen you have throughout the years. I knew that since you were dead and there was really nothing I could do about that, I could at least make sure that your killer was brought to justice." He smiled at her.

"Don't put on a brave front for me. I know that this whole thing is tearing you up inside. You don't have to be strong with me."

Sark nodded and laid his head down on the bed. Sydney began to lightly stroke his hair in an almost motherly, soothing manner. They stayed like that for quite a while.

Eventually, Sydney whispered something. "What did you say?" he asked, raising his head.

"I said I lied to you."

"About what?"

"I remember everything up until the moment that I blacked out. I guess that was when my heart stopped."  
  
"You remember everything up until that moment?" he asked. In his mind, he was trying to run through all the things he had said to her before she had slipped away.

"I remember you telling me that you liked the way I complicated your life," she said with a grin.

"Do you remember the part where you said you loved me, flaws and all?"

She nodded. "It seemed like you were trying to tell me something before I stopped breathing."

"It isn't that important," Sark said, standing up.

"Maybe it is important to me," she said defiantly.

"Listen. I need to go get your father. He's trying to wrap up some CIA business he had down in one of the empty offices on this floor. He told me to come get him when you woke up."

Sark couldn't bear to look at her in the eyes as he went to leave the room. As he got to the door, he felt his strength of will slowly filter out. In the back of his head, there was this crazy nagging feeling that he had to tell Sydney how he felt. That if he didn't, she was going to walk out of his life, probably for good. There was also another little voice in the back of his head that was telling him to let her go, don't try to trap her in your life, don't let her know.

He realized he had paused at the door when he heard Sydney's voice call out his name timidly. Seeing the look in her eyes, he knew there was only one thing he could do.


	17. Home

"I love you," Sark said, firm in his decision to tell her the truth. "That's what I told you when you stopped breathing. I told you that despite everything I am and everything I've tried to be, I love you, Sydney Bristow."

Finished with what needed to be said, he nodded at her and walked out the door, closing it shut lightly behind him.

Sydney was awestruck. It was almost as if time had stopped or the earth had come to an end. She kept waiting for the hospital to be swallowed up into the earth or struck by lightning. She had never expected him to say those three words to her.

Never. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Things changed after that moment. For the remaining two weeks Sydney stayed in the Paris hospital, Sark didn't sit by her bedside, holding her hand. Her father took up that position and reported that Sark had taken up a permanent position on one of the lobby couches.

The doctors kept coming in and out asking if they could do tests on the Covenant implants inside of her. She respectfully declined every offer. Eventually, they realized she was probably never going to let them take a closer look at the mechanism. That was the day she was released from the hospital and cleared to go home.

She was packing up all the flowers and cards she had gotten from her friends back home. Her favorite had to be either the teddy bear that Marshall sent with another poem about her disappearance or the homemade cards that Dixon's children made addressed to their Aunt Sydney.

Her little reminiscence of her favorite tech guy and "niece and nephew" was interrupted by her father entering the room. She turned and smiled at him. "Thank you for the clothes.

When she had woken up that morning, there was a pile of clothes sitting at the bottom of the bed, a pair of jeans, medium-sized t-shirt, and a gray button up sweater. Since these happened to be quite similar to her favorite pair, she figured they were from her father, who knew her the best.

"Those weren't from me. Sark left them for you."

Sydney nodded. That fact wasn't all the surprising. She continued to pack up all the belongings she had accumulated.

"I was talking to Dixon on the phone earlier this morning. He was happy to hear that you had been released and were going to be okay."

"That's nice. I know Dixon thinks I'm mad at him for his attempt at giving me what he thought I wanted. At one time, I really did want to leave the spy life and be a normal person. But that was years ago. It's embedded in everything I am now. I can't change that. And I can't leave it behind."

"I know that. Dixon seems to have realized that, too. It seems they have a situation at the CIA that he was wondering if you might want to handle. He said that it was an extremely important and sensitive area, and when push comes to shove, you might be the only one he trusts to get the job done."

"What job is there that fits me so well?" she asked as she shoved the pair of novels Vaughn sent her into her bag.

"There's a situation right now with Eric Weiss."

Sydney stopped what she was doing in midair and stared at her father. "What happened?"

"It seems he's become a rather important member in the Covenant. He's escaped."

"The CIA just let Weiss walk out of their facility?"  


"No, the Covenant discovered the outpost facility Weiss was being held in. They made a raid and extracted him. Dixon seems to think you're just the woman to head up the investigation into Weiss and to track him down for recapture."

"Did they get any explanations out of him before the Covenant swooped in?"

"He explained that it all had something to do with his uncle. But the CIA never clarified that statement, and it isn't on the official record. Ex-Agent Weiss wasn't very forthcoming with the information."

"And they wouldn't let you go in and get your hands dirty, right, Dad?"

"I don't tolerate traitors to the country or to the CIA."

Sydney smiled at her father's very characteristic statement. As the packing was finished and she had nothing else to do, she looked at her father carefully. She knew this moment had to occur before she left this hospital, but that didn't mean she still wasn't dreading it. "We've been putting off talking about this."

"To what are you referring?" Jack said, taking a seat on her bed.

"How are you handling the fact that Sark is here, Dad?"

"I've never cared for the man. That's common knowledge." Jack let out a deep breath. "But he cares for you, Sydney. Almost as much as I do."

"I know," she said. She knew what she had to tell him, and it wasn't going to be easy.

"What's with the worry face?"

She tried to give him a brave smile. "I love him, Daddy."

"That fact is painfully obvious, sweetheart. You don't have to be afraid to tell me."

"But you hate him. And I know how much it hurts you knowing that I trust him just as much as I trust you. And that's completely."

"I can't fault the fact that you have faith in him. Especially since he made some extremely hard decisions to keep you safe."

"Like calling the one man who wouldn't hesitate to shoot him with provocation?" she asked with a wink.

"That's only the tip of the iceberg. The man stabbed his own sister because she hurt you. He flew in a heart specialist from Switzerland to operate on you. Without thought, he risked imprisonment by coming into the hospital to stay by your side."

"Why would he be imprisoned?"  


"The French police have at least a dozen warrants out for his arrest. I smoothed the situation over for him. He has asylum for now."

"Thank you for that."

Jack stood up. "Listen, Sydney. I'm on a flight back to the States in an hour and a half. I'm going to be leaving in a few minutes. If you want to take Dixon up on his offer, there'll be a plane seat next to me reserved for you." Jack paused and looked at his daughter carefully. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, Dad," she said reaching out for his hand.

"I want you to put yourself first. You've had a lifetime of decisions that were for the good of others, either those you know or just the world in general. I want you to make this decision based on what's best for you."

"What decision do I have to make?"

"Whether you want to get on that flight back to the US with me and rejoin the CIA, where you're needed desperately, I might add. Or whether you want to stay with that man who's been dutifully sleeping on the world's worst smelling couch."

Sydney chuckled and pulled her father into a hug. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sark was sitting on the couch when he saw Jack leave Sydney's hospital room. He received a quick acknowledging nod of the head, and then Jack was gone.

"Well, that's progress," Sark muttered. "At least he didn't try to shoot me on sight."

Wringing his hands together, he wondered if he should go talk to Sydney now. This was probably the last time he was going to have with her alone. There were some things they needed to iron out, especially seeing that they hadn't talked since he told her he loved her.

"Who says I'm brave?" he thought as he sat back on the couch. He needed a little more time before talking with her, he decided.

He broke out of his daydream when he felt a shadow fall over him. Looking up, he saw Sydney standing there in the clothes he had picked out for her the day before. He smiled weakly as she sat down on the coach next to him.

"My dad said this was the worst smelling coach ever, but I never imagined it could be this bad."

They sat in silence since neither one knew really were to begin. Sydney reached over and grasped his hand in hers without saying a word. Sark leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.

"Dixon offered me a job with the CIA again. Heading up the team to recapture Weiss."

"He escaped?" he asked, pulling his head up to look at Sydney. "When did that happen?"

"You really have been cut off from the world while you've been at my bedside, haven't you?" She had meant the statement in jest, but it took them away from a safe topic and stopped them in a screeching halt in front of the one thing weighing on both their minds.

"So, when do you leave?" he finally asked.

"I'm not sure yet." Sydney took a deep breath. "So, what you said before? Was that the truth?"

Sark looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was staring intently at him, trying to read if what he was about to saw was a lie. Sighing, he shifted so that he faced her. "No, it wasn't a lie. I don't know when things changed, but they did."

Sydney smiled at him and looked down at their joined hands. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that what a Bristow woman wants a Bristow woman gets?"

"I should have realized that. You're an awful lot like your mother."

"People tell me that all the time. I try to take it as a compliment."

"Oh, it's definitely a compliment."

Sydney looked up at him with a completely serious face. "Tell me it again. I have to hear it from you again."

He smiled at her softly. "I love you, Sydney. It's hard for me to admit that, but I do. You single-handedly turned my life upside down like no one else ever has. God, you frustrate me so much. And the fact that I love it just makes me even more mad at you."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. You frustrate the hell out of me too."

"I still can't grasp why this feels so good."

"We seemed to fit each other so well. It's almost freakish."

Sark looked at her with all seriousness and, softly and slowly, said with much emphasis, "All I know is that whatever this is, it's right."

Sydney's eyes glistened with tears, and she bowed her head to keep Sark from noticing. She had never in her life expected to hear him actually admit how much she meant to him and how good they were together. She also had never expected there would come a day where she would be comfortable with the fact that she was showing her emotions and crying in front of Sark. She knew he had always considered crying a sign of weakness.

Noticing her soft crying, Sark tipped her chin up to look at him and wiped the tears off her cheeks with his free hand. "You have to go, don't you?"

She looked up at him. "My father said that I needed to go home."

"I think he's right. There's a job for you there. A job at a place I know you want to be. You need to get back to the life you want, Sydney."

She hadn't made a decision about what to do up until that moment, whether to meet her father at the airport and stay here by the side of her one-time adversary. His comment tipped the scales completely in the direction it seemed she had always been leaning. She wiped the last bit of tears from her eyes, stood up, and smiled bravely at him as she let go of his hand. "My father's right. It is time to go home."

Sark watched her walk down the hallway. Her shoes clicked on the worn hospital floor tiles in a slow rhythm. Each step that took her farther away from him was like a nail being pounded straight into his heart. It was too painful to keep watching her walk away.

"So this is what heartbreak feels like," he murmured. Leaning forward, he placed his head in his hands.

Halfway down the hall, he heard the sound of Sydney's shoes abruptly stop. He looked up to see her standing in the middle of the hallway gazing at him.

"Are you coming?" she asked with a smirk.

Her statement took a minute to sink in.

After it did, he chuckled as he stood up and began to walk down the corridor. She met him halfway with a kiss that told him he never really stood a chance at resisting her. And it told him that they were doing the right thing in staying together. That whatever they had, it was worth all the pain and suffering they had gone through to get to this point.

When they finally broke apart, he took a long look at her, almost as if he was making sure she was really there. "I thought you said you wanted to go home."

"My home is wherever you are," she whispered in his ear as she lightly nibbled it. "My life is next to you."

He pulled her back to look him in the eye. "I love you."

"You've done enough to prove that point. I've given you my trust, and I think you might be the only man who's never let me down." Sydney smiled at him. "I even told my father that I loved you."

"And he didn't immediately try to tie you up and drag you on the next flight out of here?"

"I think he actually likes you, only he'd never admit that."

"Impossible," Sark said with a smirk.

"I'm tired. Take me home."

Sark bent down to pick up the bag she had thrown all her belongings in. He threw the bag over his shoulder and scooped her up. With her safely in his arms, he began to walk out of the hospital.

They didn't know what the next step entailed for them. He was still a wanted criminal in most countries and was the very person most people tried to protect you against. She was an ex-CIA spy who had a nasty habit of getting shot, someone who was thought of as inherently good and noble. They were the most unlikely match, and yet at the same time it was almost natural. There were surefire obstacles they would have to face. But they were ready to confront anything that was thrown at them.

They were together. And in the end, that is all the really matters.


End file.
